


When It's Just Us - Kinktober 2020

by MaeveOfKobol



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Battlestar Galactica - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Blindfolds, Dominance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hair-pulling, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Making Love, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sleepy Sex, Submission, Teasing, Threesome - F/M/M, Vibrators, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Whose idea was this?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 34,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaeveOfKobol/pseuds/MaeveOfKobol
Summary: In the quiet moments, they get to be Bill and Laura.I'm trying kinktober with my OTP. 1 day - 1 kink (based on prompts listed in chapter titles) which will end up being 31 days of extremely self indulgent smut of the Rodama variety. I hope you're looking forward to this as much as I am.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Comments: 152
Kudos: 56





	1. Teasing/Begging

I can feel it; the tension in the air, hanging thick and almost palpable between Laura and myself. I’m supposed to be working on reports—I _am_ working on reports, alongside my president and friend within the privacy of my quarters. The endless work doesn’t bother me. There’s a soothing monotony in reviewing the paperwork and the satisfying feeling of a job well done. The tension is getting hard to ignore though.

I won’t deny the energy that rippled through the air when I first met Laura. It was like invisible shockwaves. Our first meeting didn’t go well, but months later, our antagonism has been replaced by friendship and animosity has given way to something that’s like affection. I… _care_ deeply about Laura Roslin. Care is the only word I want to use right now to define us. Care is powerful in its own right; my marriage failed because neither of us cared enough about each other.

Laura is my lover now too. We have been frakking ever since her cancer cure; she’d come out feeling so alive, and I’d been thrilled my partner would live. One thing led to another, and I don’t do regret. It’s not a relationship though. Our positions and responsibilities don’t leave room for much more.

Tonight, I notice she keeps staring at my hands. Both of us are sequestered away in my quarters with a mountain of reports, but Laura keeps turning her attention on my hands. I look up and give her a friendly smile, wanting to know if she needed anything. She responds with one of her sweet little half grins before returning to the report in her lap. There’s no sign that she notices the mounting tension; to any observer we’re just two composed professionals. I turn back to my work. I have duty rosters to approve. Touching Laura will wait until my notes and signature are on each necessary bit of paperwork. I have responsibilities as does she, and part of the reason we work so well together is how seriously we take our duties.

Several reports later, her attention drifts again, and I see those green eyes trace along my hands and over my body. It puzzles me. I’m not doing anything interesting and don’t consider myself handsome enough to warrant her distracted gaze. I sign my name to a report, trying to ignore the increasing thump, thump of my heartbeat. 

Both of us manage to make our way through our work. I can’t help but note how she grows restless by the minute; however, she’s also determined to finish her work and I respect that. She’s a dedicated woman who’s committed to our people. Nevertheless, I know something is bothering her tonight. She keeps running a hand through her hair and repeatedly crossing and uncrossing her legs. We’ve become very aware of each other; reading the other’s thoughts in subtle glances and shifting bodies. It’s a powerful tool, and it’s only become more pronounced since we slept together. Then it hits me what’s going on.

She’s aroused.

At that knowledge, I have to shift slightly on the couch as blood rushes to my cock. There’s a healthy blush on her cheeks and her eyes are intense as they flicker over to me again. It suddenly seems deadly silent in my quarters except for the rustle of paperwork. There’s only one thing I can do; I throw myself into the rest of the reports, pushing through so I’m free to do something about this situation.

When I sign my name onto the last bit of paper, I actually sigh in relief. My uniform feels hot and heavy against my skin, and I catch Laura staring at my hands when I slip a few buttons undone.

The tension is dizzying. I want this woman. Now.

“You finished?” I ask and my voice comes out low and gravely; it must be clear what I want. My legendary stoic persona has deserted me tonight. The warm flow of her laughter resonates deep in my heart as she tosses her papers onto the coffee table, assuring me she’s done all that’s needed for tonight. It occurs to me that I’m the only one who gets to see her like this; fun, warmhearted, passionate, and simply good to be with. She meets my eyes and recognizes the desire in them. She’s kissing me a heartbeat later, giggles still vibrating in her throat.

She’s so much damn fun like this. Whatever my initial impression of her, I could never have expected a playful, wanton woman underneath the prim exterior of the Secretary of Education. Then again, she’s also uncovered a side of me she probably didn’t expect either, the strange mix of brash, rash viper pilot and gentle, thoughtful man.

Her hands have already made swift work of my uniform jacket, nimble fingers working buttons free in record time. She shoves the fabric away before reaching for the tanks next, only breaking her fevered kissing to yank them over my head. It’s my turn to blush when Laura practically purrs in delight at the exposed skin; it’s been so long since I’ve felt so desired by a woman and I’ve gained so many scars in my life. The President might be deceitful, but Laura is honest, and she says that she likes what she sees. I know to believe her.

Everywhere her hands trace leaves me tingling and wanting more. I quickly pick her up from the couch and march over to deposit her in my rack.

“You’re impatient tonight,” I say, curiosity lacing through my words. She grins sheepishly at me but doesn’t stop reaching for my pants. Her determined attitude isn’t easily diminished.

“I’ve felt so… _alive_ all day. I haven’t felt this much energy since…” she trailed off because she knows I don’t like thinking about how close I came to losing her. I refuse to think about the effect her death would have had on me. _I only care about her,_ I tell myself mentally. I kiss her hard to put such thoughts out of our minds. Our tongues duel until we need to breathe, and I pull back to look down at her. Neither of us are young anymore, but she’s still a vision. Her eyes are shining, and her auburn hair is already tangled across my pillow. She looks ready to be frakked quick and hard, but I have another idea.

"You up to something different?" I ask against her neck, my voice husky and low. I nip at the skin there, knowing its sensitive and I feel her body shudder in response. We’re still learning each other as lovers, but her eyes are trusting. It makes my old heart soar.

“I feel up for anything,” Laura admits, and I catch how her legs rub together with needy anticipation. When she notices my rapt attention, she turns away. I remember she hasn’t quite gotten use to a lover who’s interested in her pleasure too. I gently turn her face back and kiss her softly but don’t comment. I’ve always been one to let my actions speak for me. Time will assure her that I care.

“Hold still,” I tell her, and after a moment, she nods in acceptance. I take my time to unbutton her blouse, placing featherlight kisses along each inch of exposed skin. She has such beautiful skin with its dusting of freckles. I take my time, nipping and sucking and paying special attention to the valley between her breasts, teasing but refusing to touch where I know she wants my attention. When I move on, she moans loudly.

I know she used to frak Adar. That bastard probably never showed her the proper attention or care she deserved. She’s too used to quick fraks and has admitted she’s not accustomed to foreplay. I have a strategy for tonight.

I pull her skirt down her lovely legs, deliberately letting my fingertips trace along her inner thigh, and she writhes in my rack at the sensation. I delight in learning something new about her; how wild a soft, teasing touch drives her. I feel goosebumps rising all over her flesh. The knowledge of how I can make her react to me causes heat to pulse through my veins. My erection strains against my uniform pants, but I’m determined to take care of her first.

“Bill!” she breathes out my name in a frustrated gasp as I work my way back up her body with butterfly kisses. She must have felt me grin and chuckle against her because she sits up and pulls me to her. The force of her grip causes us to topple over until we are crushed together in my rack with my body covering her. I won’t lie, seeing her underneath me has me swelling even harder.

“Weren’t you supposed to hold still?” I tease, and her eyes dance with mirth. She’s not sorry at all. She kisses me again, and when her tongue pushes into my mouth, tasting desperately, I chuckle. She wasn’t kidding when she said she had energy today. "Easy Laura," I tell her between her hard kisses. “Hold still this time.”

Over the soft cotton of her panties, I graze two fingertips over her and stroke in soft circles. I refuse to hurry even when her fingernails dig into my back. I’ll feel those marks tomorrow, but I want to see just how wild I can drive my usually composed president. Tonight I want to be about teasing her and drawing out her pleasure. She’s already so on edge that it promises to be quite the experience for her.

I burry my face in her neck, the sweet scent of her hair surrounding me.

When she sounds frustrated enough, I strip her underwear away before sliding a finger over her warm, wet center. I think of how she’d been staring at my hands and let my fingers lazily circle her entrance.

She whimpers and moans against me. Just the reactions I hoped for. Her hips buck against my hand, and I slip one thick finger slowly inside her, filling her. She cries out in satisfaction. She’s soft and already very wet, and it only ramps up my own desire. Sometimes it still shocks me how compatible we are in the rack. It’s lucky; the list of potential partners for either of us is…not long. I don’t want to think of us with anyone else.

I gently ease my finger in an out of her, enjoying what I know I’m doing to her. The strength of what was building between us was staggering. My own body felt like it was on fire, each and each one of my nerves was pulsating. I kept thrusting my finger into her, brushing her clit with my thumb. I swallow the tempting words of affection.

“More,” Laura pleads, her hands tangled in my hair to hold me against her.

“Bossy,” I admonished playfully but add another finger. She gave a gasping sort of cry, and then moaned, low and guttural. My cock throbs with need as I delight in each of her sounds. Laura is too beautiful like this to stop what I’m doing. I slide in and out of her with my fingers, pressing my mouth against her neck. I’m careful not to give her too much, keeping her from the edge while making her feel joy and nothing more.

I take no small amount of pride in how she responds to my touch. I feel how hard she grips me, and revel at how her strength continues to return. When I still my fingers in her, she growls in frustration and I lovingly kiss her forehead.

“You’ve never learned to appreciate delayed gratification, Laura,” I rasp.

“Oh my gods,” she moans.

“Just me.”

“Cocky tonight, aren’t you?”

“Because I know you’re going to beg for me.” I’m not sure that I haven’t pushed too far, but the brasher side of me wants to be let out. The cocky viper pilot who’s normally trapped in the Admiral’s armor wants to play. The apocalypse has happened and we’re running out of time to do what we want. My instinct tells me our…kinks are probably very much in tune. I trust my gut and go with what I want which at the moment is to see her beg for me the way I know I would for her if our positions were reversed. I move so I can see into Laura’s gleaming green eyes, and from the heated expression in them, I know she’s willing to follow me into this game. She’s already tense and panting from my teasing, but she licks her lips before speaking coherently enough.

“Please, Bill, make me come,” Laura says, her voice is strained but able to tell me exactly what she wants. I’m not unaware of the defiant set of her chin, as if her begging is also giving my my own personal challenge. I immediately sinks three fingers into her, and her hips lifted off the rack; I have to use my other hand to push her back down.

“Don’t come,” I tell Laura. “I’ll tell you when to come.”

“Why?” That catches her off guard. 

“Delayed gratification, Laura.” I look at her profile, skin flushed and eyes shining, hair tangled, and lips parted as she gasps. She looks so alive.

I soon picked up a fast and hard rhythm. The rack creaks beneath us as I push into her with my fingers. She’s so incredibly wet, and hot. As I slide in and out of her, she thrusts down onto my hand, rubbing her clit hard against my palm. I like how inhibited she can be. She likes sex. She likes sex with me. I can feel her muscles clenching his fingers, little tremors starting inside her.

“Not yet, Laura.”

She moans loudly. I keep her on the edge, waiting.

“Bill…”

“No, Laura.”

“Please, Bill,” she finally begs. “Please, Bill, _please_ , _please_.”

“Alright,” I say, in a rough voice. My own pace increases.

She throws her head back and cries out. I’m shocked to hear my name on her lips, and I find that it’s almost humbling. All her muscles clench, gripping my fingers, pulsing around me. She’s captivating. I tenderly kissed her neck, holding her to me while slowly sliding my fingers in and out. I let her down gently, letting her ride out the end of her orgasm.

When my fingers stop, she’s holding me against her in a warm embrace. Her lips graze across my skin while her breath stays irregular. Her nose presses into my skin.

“That was amazing,” she murmurs, I can still feel little quakes inside her. She shudders with each sensation. I can’t help but smile at the contended feeling I already have. Being able to do this for her, with her is amazing.

After a moment, she pulls back and grins.

“Your turn, Adama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Never written fanfic in the first person before.  
> 2\. Kinktober!!!  
> 3\. I'm nervously excited about doing these prompts.  
> 4\. Comment away friends.  
> 5\. No beta. Be kind-ish.  
> 6\. Many of the prompts are from here: https://quacking-feck.tumblr.com/post/614490904951160832/early-kinktober-list-for-2020


	2. Hickeys

I catch the barest hint of a red bruise on the inside of my wrist, and carefully pull the sleeve of my blouse down to cover it. I don’t want to give the curious Quorum fodder for gossip.

The conference room on Colonial One is barely big enough for all of us. The twelve members of the Quorum are seated around the large conference table while their aides and members of the press are crammed around the edge of the small room. Space is supposed to be cold, but the room is hot and stifling from so many bodies packed in the room.

I’m stuck at the head of the table, presiding over the unruly lot. Honestly, my kindergarteners were better behaved then these Quorum delegates. It seems everyone seated at the table loves talking over each other. I refuse to tolerate too much of their shenanigans; I’ve learned to run these meetings with a brisk efficiency. I let them spew hot air for a bit and then slam the gavel on the table, calling them back to order. By some mercy of the Gods, they obey.

“The chair recognizes Tom Zarek, representative of Sagittaron,” I say in the polite and friendly tone of President Roslin. I ignore the charming smile Mr. Zarek tries to flash my way. I’ve had enough superficial charm to last me a lifetime. I meet Bill’s gaze from where he sits across the conference table. We might only be friends who are frakking, but what’s between us is more… _real_ … _deeper_ than any other relationship I’ve had in my life. The lack of superficiality, the depth of what’s between us scares me, and I quickly focus on what Mr. Zarek is saying instead of continuing that train of thought.

“Thank you, Madame President,” Zarek says, and it’s clear that he thinks himself temptation incarnate. I can’t help but glance back at Bill, and we silently communicate our exasperation with the terrorist cum Quorum delegate. I suppress my desire to grin at him, knowing the Quorum wouldn’t like the overt favoritism. Bill Adama is not their favorite person.

We both focus on Zarek who’s gushing on about his latest idea. “I formally present my plan for a creation of a Civil Defense Force and move to open deliberations on this _bold_ and _needed_ new initiative.”

Zarek’s suggestion is why the Admiral of the Fleet is attending this Quorum meeting; the line between Fleet security and military decisions isn’t like a bold white line drawn on a chalkboard where we can easily write who will oversee what on each side. The Admiral needs to be part of these deliberations, even though he hates dealing with politicians. Zarek shoots an accusing gaze towards Adama and the stoic old man doesn’t even react with a raised eyebrow. He just sits there with a stony passivity, denying Zarek the pleasure of a reaction. “After what happened during the last military coup, we don’t want to depend on Galactica’s marines to guarantee our safety.”

Of course, chaos erupts around us when Zarek sits. Everyone has an opinion. The weight, the pressure of this job is hard at moments like this; when there’s no right answer. It will be another long, arduous day.

My sleeve has ridden up again, threatening to expose the bruise hidden there. I rest my hands in my lap, folded elegantly like a proper lady. There’s the briefest grin on Bill’s face as if he realizes my predicament. He’s also left a matching mark on my breast, right over my heart that I could see if I tried to look down my shirt. I decide that it’s best not to do that at a Quorum meeting. Zarek might get intrigued and then there really would be a fight between Bill and Zarek.

Recently, I confided in Bill that I actually liked it when he marks me, and I think it shocked the hell out of him. It was a surprise to me too, but things are delightfully different with Bill. My skin is sensitive and has always bruised so easily; the first mark was an accident from an overzealous night after which he’d apologized profusely. When I went back to Colonial One, I kept smiling whenever I caught sight of the mark in the mirror. When I told Bill I liked it, I explained that the marks he leaves are a reminder that I’m more than a president. While duty often defines me, and I willingly focus on my people’s survival no matter the cost it has on my soul, there is more to me than President Roslin. 

It’s a struggle to sometimes remember that I’m more than a position. I could drown in duty. I hear my own name so rarely and can go days only hearing my title. Yet, there’s a woman underneath the pressed blouse and skirt; a woman who used to be quite sensual. It would be easy to lose myself completely in this job, and there’s something to be said for keeping ahold of my humanity. The marks give me a sense of tranquility and it washes over me every time I see them. Each one is the physical and undeniable proof that Laura the Woman exists – that there’s someone out there who appreciates that side of me. There’s no way for Bill and me to see each other every day, let alone find time to frak, but his reminders stay with me for days. Whenever I glimpse a hidden bruise, I relive the times where Bill and I were the only two people in the world; brief moments when Cylons, problem pilots, and Quorum delegates don’t exist.

My thumb caresses over this latest mark as Zarek waxes poetic about the dangers of relying on the military. I already know his arguments. I already know Bill’s counters. The pressure of my job swirls around me and my frustration threatens to mount, but I press on the bruise and allow a moment of reminiscence.

_Already naked, I sit on the edge of the bed, eyes bright and watch him strip out of his duty blues. I drink in every inch of his bronze skin as it’s revealed. I find him attractive, incredibly so, even with his scars and bulk. It’s a rugged handsomeness, and I enjoy knowing that he trusts me enough to unashamedly undress in front of me. With his clothes out of the way, he lays us both back down on the rack. I can tell he’s feeling gentle, and it astounds me how soft this beacon of military strength and power can be. I reach up to cup his face in my hand, feeling the prickle of five ‘clock shadow. It’s ridiculously late, but we had work to finish first._

_It thrills me how he turns to kiss the skin of my palm and then down to my wrist. He’s always attentive. I gasp when his soft kiss turns insistent and he sucks at the extremely sensitive skin at my wrist. He nuzzles the mark he leaves, grinning wolfishly down at me. I know he never would have done so without expressly knowing that I liked it, and it fills me with warmth. The tingling anticipation that’s been gathering in my belly since the first bits of clothing were removed now roars to life. It’s reassuring to know there is still pleasured to be had in life._

_He smiles at me, enjoyment written all over his normally calm face. His eyes are filled with sensual desire. For these few moments, he’s my whole world and I’m his. His delicious weight presses me into the rack, and his musky, woody scent fills my nose._

_Our moans mix together as the size of him fills me completely. He’s slow, messaging the nerve endings of my sex. I’m a throbbing in rhythm with each thrust he makes. When I throw my head back at the overwhelming sensation, he takes the chance to nip and suck of my breasts. I feel the blood pulsing where he leaves another mark and I give a throaty laugh._

I feel delirious gratitude that we can have such moments _._ I sit up straighter in my chair, ignoring the bruise once more, having gotten the comfort I needed by remembering that these bickering delegates aren’t all I have to look forward to.

There are still barriers between Bill and I. Responsibilities. But in these moments when Quorum meetings become migraine inducing nightmares, when Zarek flashes his charming smile because he wants something, or when I have to argue with the Admiral over a political decision, I enjoy feeling a slight bruise from a moment of passion. I’m assured that the President won’t take over completely, and that I have the care and support of a good man.

He’s admitted that he likes knowing I carry his mark on me somewhere. He likes looking over at me and knowing that part of our encounters has stayed with me under the President’s armor. He’s endured a few tedious moments in CIC by wondering where to put his next mark on me. We’re discovering a remarkable balance exists between us both as leaders and as lovers. I’m not sure I can ever be the vibrant, playful, and even bawdy woman I was before cancer and the death of my family, but I’m not the ice-queen the press sometimes calls me. I know Bill has noticed that hidden side of me, just as I’ve noticed a side of him that he’s not allowed to express very often. So we share our secret and meet when we can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm so glad people are enjoying this. I'm using a few different prompt lists because not everything will work in a canon-ish BSG universe.  
> 2\. Prompts for Day 2: Balcony Sex | Hickeys | Caging | Knotting. So, I used hickeys, and I'm actually really happy with how strangely sweet it came out.   
> 3\. I can't believe I'm doing this. Some prompts are gonna require creativity.   
> 4\. I do have two days that I know I'm not using the prompts on the list. Speak now or forever hold your peace if you have a request.   
> 5\. Let me know what you think :)


	3. Orgasm Denial

Laura likes games. She also delights in frustrating the hell out of me. I’ve seen the mischievous smile on her face as she puts an extra sway into her hips when I’m behind her. Teasing looks and flirtatious smiles, while carefully hidden from onlookers, accompany the meetings we have.

At the moment, she’s standing beside me in CIC, and I can feel the heat radiating from her. I’m about five minutes away from ordering everyone out so I can strip her down and frak her senseless over my station. A man can dream.

Both of us are occupied with Fleet business, and it comes first. Even so, when she shifts her hips, I look away so that I don’t lose my façade of serene calm. I could spend hours looking at the curve of her ass in that grey skirt, especially when she braces herself over the control station while looking at a map Lt. Gaeta has placed before us. 

Her eyes meet mine. A thrill of excitement courses through me at the thought of dragging her back to my quarters. As if sensing my thoughts, her eyes crinkle slightly as her lips turn up. The President of the Colonies has the audacity to smirk at me before turning back to the map. She leans ever so slowly forward, pressing her hips back just a fraction, teasing me with what I haven’t been able to touch for too long.

Normally, I’m not easily worked up, but today my pulse jumps, beating strong and fast so I can feel it in my neck. Watching Laura tease me in the middle of CIC after denying us so many opportunities to frak is maddening. I keep my desire for her under control, focusing on breathing to keep my body from betraying me. It’s tempting, but I refuse to daydream about our last encounter when she rode me like we were both thirty years younger. Instead, we listen to Gaeta prattle on. When the lieutenant moves away, I lean over to whisper to Laura.

“No more playing, Laura.”

“Really?” she tilts her head. Red curls tumble around her shoulders, and she looks up at me with those luminous green eyes. “Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“My quarters tonight,” I say. My voice is so low, so quiet, I’m sure Laura can barely hear me. There’s no chance of being overheard.

I’ve never desired anyone the way I desire her. 

She’s had a voracious appetite since getting well, and yet she’s politely declined my recent, subtle invitations. Frustration is starting to give way to irritation, but toying with me puts a smile on Laura’s face so I let her play. Honestly, we are both having a good time exploring the sexual chemistry between us. Seeing Laura have fun means more to me than just gaining relief from frakking.

The wait has to be driving her crazy too; I know Laura isn’t sleeping with anyone else. There’s an unspoken understanding that ‘this’ is monogamous, and I trust her. We wouldn’t be able to do ‘this’ if we didn’t trust each other.

She turns to Billy who stands over by Duala’s station. He quickly moves back over to his boss. 

“Billy, I’ll be having dinner with Admiral Adama tonight. We have some Fleet security matters to discuss,” she says casually.

“Anything I can help take care of, Madame President?” he asked with such an earnest face. He’s a good kid who only wants to do his job well. Good boy. 

“Admiral Adama has it taken care of, thank you Billy,” Laura says. Even though there’s a wicked gleam in her eye, she thanks her aide sincerely.

...

She lets herself into my quarters later, walking over to where I’m waiting on the couch. I grab her by the waist, taking her by surprise, and haul her into my lap. She giggles, a sound I’m starting to love, and leans onto my chest. Her legs straddle mine, and the move bunches her skirt up around her hips. My heartbeat accelerates and I’m already rock hard. How can I be up this frakking quick?

“You'll be the death of me,” I growl. She simply grins while peppering kisses across my face but dodges my lips. She is enjoying drawing out this frustration; Laura frakkin’ Roslin and her damn games. Infuriating. She racks her nails along my scalp at the same moment she nips at my ear, and I actually whimper. I can’t believe it. Heat rushes through me and I’m not sure if it’s embarrassment or arousal. She murmurs something soothing against my skin and I remember that she’s never made me feel ashamed of my desires or my reactions.

“You enjoy toying with me.”

“I do.” I spread my hands to lie flat across her back, anchoring her to me. My hands are large enough that I can frame her back and sides at the same time. The strength of my need for her is pulsing through me, and I am careful with how roughly I caress her. She hums in delight as my thumbs rub her sides and leans in to kiss me passionately. I feel her growing heat against my straining cock.

It surprises me when she pulls back and nervously bites her lip. 

“What is it,” I gently prompt her. 

“I’ve had a bit of a fantasy about you over the last few days,” she admits sheepishly.

“Tell me,” I order.

She blushes but continues on boldly. “I want to see how long I can keep you from finishing.” My eyebrows must have shot up, and she quickly reassures me that we don’t have to do anything unless I want to. I’m only nervous because I’m not sure I’ll last long. 

“Where do you want me?” 

…

I have him strip and lie down in his rack. His eyes widen when I lose my blouse but leave on my skirt and bra. This will do for tonight. I know he thinks this is just a game for me, but I’ve been watching him for the past few weeks. With Pegasus joining our Fleet, Kara’s behavior issues, and a thousand other things always happening, I’ve noticed the tension in him at all times. He’s constantly stressed and worried. We both are. He needs a night where someone else takes control for a bit, and I need to focus on someone else. Besides, I genuinely want to take care of him. I imagine, like me, he’s had no one really in his life who considers his needs.

“Pick a safe word,” I prompt him gently as he lays down in his rack. I’m still leaving light kisses on his skin, enjoying how surprisingly soft it feels against my lips. I kiss his neck, close enough to his face that I can see the wheels turning. He must be wondering just how far my games go if I know to use things like safe words. With the right partner, I can be very inventive and experimental when it comes to sex. I just need a partner I trust, and I haven’t had one of those in a long time. We’ll see how tonight goes and then go from there. 

“Peanut butter.” I stare at him and he shrugs. “It’s one of my favorite foods.”

“Peanut Butter,” I repeat with a grin.

“I’m not going to need it, Laura.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’ve been through torture training.” I stare at him for a moment before shaking my head. He chuckles at my startled reaction. I lean over and kiss him deeply. It’s charged with so much energy, and I can tell Bill is secretly thrilled at what might happen to him. I let my tongue swirl around his before pulling away, no letting us get too carried away. He pouts when I pull back, and its actually adorable.

“Where are you going?” he growls, and his voice is lust-filled and rough from arousal. It shoots straight to my core. 

“Just getting something.” I return with my bag that I’d dropped by the hatch. I look deep into his eyes; they really are such a lovely shade of blue. “Trust me.” 

He nods. I raise his arms over his head and feel how he nuzzles at my bra when I lean over him. He nips at the peak of a nipple through the fabric and it sends a jolt through my whole body. He really can’t resist. He’s a surprisingly sensual man. I’m not sure how he’d react to being restrained yet, so I simply tell him to keep his hands where I put them. I let my hands trace over the muscles of his arms, humming in appreciation at the clear strength in his body.

I let my hands wander all over him, shamelessly enjoying the feel of him out of uniform. I run a hand over his stomach and chest, pinching a nipple and making him groan. So he’s sensitive there. Convincing him that I do find him attractive has taken some time, so I slowly worship every inch of him, slowly meandering down until I’m satisfied. Only then do I take his shaft in my hand. One stroke and he arches into my touch with a moan. Seeing the effect I can still have on a man is intoxicating.

“Hold still, Bill. It’s going to be a long night.’’

His eyes darken, and I enjoy knowing he’s letting himself relax and trust me. Gripping him loosely, I slowly move up and down. There’s no lube...yet, so I’m careful. Keeping him waiting for so long already has him worked up, but I do enjoy teasing him a bit more. I keep kissing him wherever I can reach, while my hand massages in slow thrusts. As I pump him, his parts his lips to breath in mounting ecstasy. When I rub my thumb in a circle at the head of his dick, his hands clench in fists. I carefully note his reactions, bringing him to the brink of orgasm. When he tries to thrust into my hand, I let him go. He growls lowly at me. 

I grin mischievously at him. There’s an intensity to his gaze, and he’s curious and analyzing. I bend down to pluck the lotion I have stashed in my bag and put some in my hands. I start with his hands, easing his clenched fists and move down to his arms and across his whole body. His muscles are packed with tension but with enough attention the knots are eased away. Stress is hard on the body. I know this. But I bring him to a state where he can be relaxed but aroused. Despite my earlier attention, I continuously get close but don’t touch his throbbing cock. My knuckles kneed his skin, and I enjoy the feeling of taking care of someone else--it drags my own mind away from our crazy life.

“Laura,” he groans. I smirk, but trace lightly over his chest and stomach before taking him in my hand again. The lotion lets me grip his shaft tighter, and his fists grip the sheets of his bed from the sensations. At a twist of my wrist to keep things interesting, he nearly bucks off the bed. 

“You can always use your safe word,” I can’t help but tease him. 

“No frakkin’ way.”

He throws his head back on his pillow when my other hand comes over to tease his balls, massaging them and pulling them lightly. It’s a strategic move on my part. When I feel them tensing, I ease my grip before letting go completely. 

“Laura!” I chuckle but continue pulling away. 

“Can I get you an ambrosia?” I ask sweetly. 

“Frak.”

To give him a moment to recover, I stride over to his drinks cart and pour a finger of the amber liquid. When I hand it to him, he knocks it back in one gulp and I roll my eyes. The legendary Adama patience is almost gone. Just to irritate him, I stride back over to the drinks cart and pour myself my own drink, leaning against the bulkhead to watch him on the rack while sipping in a deliberately slow fashion. 

_Who the frak am I?_ I think for a moment as part of my mind analyzes the scene in front of me. I’m the President of the Colonies and I’m having my wicked way with the Admiral of the Fleet. I down the rest of my own drink. After nearly dying, I’m allowed to live. After the weight he has to deal with every day, he’s allowed to enjoy himself.

“Ready for more?” I ask.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The prompts choices for today were; Creampie | Nudes | Hate-fucking | Orgasm Denial.  
> 2\. I still sometimes feel out of my depth when writing smut. These prompts are really forcing me to stretch my creativity.  
> 3\. Still enjoying?


	4. Blindfolds

The silk of one of my two surviving scarves covers my eyes. Bill had been careful not to pull my hair when he secured the blindfold with a knot behind my head. He explained it in his methodical precision; how the other senses are heightened when one is taken away. He’s right.

Under the dim lights of his quarters, the addition of the silk blindfold leaves me in total darkness. I shiver at the unknown, only able to focus on the wild beat of my heart. He guides me down onto his rack, propping a pillow behind me. My clothes have already been removed at his deliberate pace. How the fabric moved against my skin had me shivering as my senses reached out in the darkness. Waiting for him to join me, I squirm against the rough coolness of the military sheets. 

I listen to him undress, able to hear each piece hit the deck. He pads over to me, and there’s no way to predict where he’ll touch first. It ramps up my anticipation. When his fingertips caress my neck first, I press into him wantonly. Just the feel of his warm hands running over my skin has me tingling with want. I reach out blindly for him, his warmth becoming the only fixed point of my darkened world. 

I gasp in surprise when he reaches between us to palm a breast in a gentle hold, squeezing and releasing in an unpredictable rhythm. When his thumb rubs a sensitive nipple, I can’t help but shudder; the intensity of it all is almost double what I’m used to. I burry my head in the crook of his neck, trying to remember to breathe and only succeed in overwhelming my nose with his scent. There’s sweat, musk, and aftershave and its intoxicating. I can’t resist slipping my fingers through his hair to hold him to me, and the strands are softer than I remember.

When his voice speaks next to my ear, it seems even more low and gravelly than ever before. It alone sends a rush of desire through me, and a heated blush covers my skin.

“I have a surprise for you.”

I listen to him rummage around on the shelf behind us, ears perked for any hint about what might be happening. I hear the tearing of foil, and the sweet aroma of chocolate assaults my senses. I nearly cry. I haven’t seen a single sliver of it since the worlds ended. He places a square of the divine substance on my lips and pushes it into my mouth. I practically purr while savoring the taste. It is exquisite. I’m not the only one who moans when I suck his thumb to taste the chocolate melted there.

"I love chocolate," I hum after giving his thumb one final nip. He groans in response but obligingly feeds me another piece. We repeat the process several times, and I can hear his breathing get harder. He’s enjoying this experience as much as me. I marvel at what a thoughtful man hides under the gruff exterior.

“Last piece.” My lips part, and he feeds me the chocolate. I gasp and moan while sweeping my tongue around the last piece. I unashamedly suck at the fingers with any lingering bit of chocolate and hear him chuckle. I sigh in delight when he leans down to kiss me, our tongues dueling and tasting some of the last bits of chocolate in existence.

His weight shifting to settle between my thighs is welcome. He’s hot and heavy against my entrance, and after the last hour I’m more than ready for him. I wrap my legs around his waist, tugging him toward me.

He groans in pleasure as he slips inside. Still in darkness, everything is intense, and I cry out just from the feel of his hips grinding against mine. He slips a finger down to tease my bundle of nerves and I’m heaven.

My awakened senses take over completely as Bill thrusts into me with slow, deep strokes before he gradually picks up the pace. We move together for a pleasurable eternity before he skillfully brings us over the edge together. I scream, and I never scream. But the orgasm is like a tidal wave and I’m lost.

I’m grinning happily as I pluck the blindfold from my eyes as he collapses next to me.

“The chocolate was good too,” I hum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Drop me a comment if you are enjoying!   
> 2\. Prompt choices for today were; Blindfolds | Face-sitting | Mommy/Daddy | Fisting. Blindfolds won.


	5. Gags

Laura still had the giggles after the first round of Presidential debates. She was incredible. After her win, she’s been riding a euphoric high, and I’ve been grinning too. I’ve not had much reason to smile in years, but she has a way of dragging them out of me. I even laughed today, a genuine full laugh in the middle of a corridor.

I warned her to be quiet, but she’d kept giggling. Seriously, we don’t need to attract attention while naked in her bedroom on Colonial One. There’s only a thin curtain separating us from her office. This is our secret. We don’t need the judgment of the Fleet.

Just to tease her, I asked if I needed to gag her to keep her quiet. Her eyes instantly darkened as her arousal spiked, and she’d giggled again. While looking me straight in the eye, she’d frakkin’ giggled again. I can recognize when someone issues a challenge. What a wonderful minx Laura was turning out to be. Too often I have to see her just as my President, so these moments when she allows that role to fall away are precious to me. She’s a perfect contradiction, prim and proper while lustful and wanton. Loving Laura is turning into an adventure and a challenge.

I know that I love her.

I also know where she keeps her toys. Maybe actually gagging her is a bit extreme, but I’d told her to keep quiet. I wonder if she thought I’d actually do it. Hasn’t she learned that I never make a threat I won’t carry out. It’s bad form. She was fighting not to break into full laughter when I slipped the gag I found into her mouth and secured it. The woman likes pushing me.

I wonder what the Fleet would think if they realized how kinky their leaders turned out to be. She’s now gagged and squirming in my arms, so I turn her around to face her cot.

“Bend over,” I command with a low growl and push her body so she’s kneeling on the makeshift bed with her torso bent over. I swear I hear muffled giggles against the gag as she places her hands on the back of the cot and I’m treated to a view of her ass. As the damn distracting pencil skirts have suggested, she really has a spectacular ass with a fine pair of legs to go along with it. I can’t resist trailing my hands over the skin of her legs before tracing the curve of her rear. She giggles more, but they’re muffled enough to not draw attention. I smile indulgently, and keep caressing her, conveying what I feel with action. I wonder if she’ll ever be ready to hear what I feel.

I wonder if I’ll ever be able to put it into words. 

She pushes her ass back, angling her hips to me in clear invitation. I grab my shaft and rub it up and down along her opening. She’s swollen and wet; her body is practically begging to be penetrated. At the teasing of her center, her giggles are now laced with groans, the sound coming from deep in her throat.

Taking her hips I thrust in hard before pulling all the way out and plunging in again even more powerfully. Every muffled sound she makes urges me on. Under me, her skin becomes flushed and glistens with sweat. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the air. I’m panting hard with the effort it takes to quiet down while still pounding into her.

She grips the back of the cot, her knuckles going white while uses the leverage to push herself into me with every thrust. She is getting close; I can tell by her trembling thighs and by her desperate sounds against the gag. I surprised her by pushing her legs together with a knee and the act causes her space I fill to narrow. I feel huge as her walls grip my cock. It only takes one more thrust and she’s spasming around me. She giggles as her orgasm ripples through her. I yank her to me to spill my loud as deeply in her as possible.

I’ve never climaxed in a woman who giggled hysterically the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes I stare at a prompt and wonder what the heck I'm gonna write.  
> This was one of those days.  
> Drop me a line of encouragement if you're enjoying kinktober. 
> 
> Working on the medieval fic next. Will post soon.


	6. Dominance/Submission

“I have to go down to New Caprica tomorrow,” I whisper. My arms are folded across my chest, and I stare resolutely at the bookshelf in Bill’s quarters. Then I look at the scattered artwork before my gaze drops down at the knotted carpets. My eyes focus on anything but William Adama. He’s been kind and patient since the elections, and I don’t want him to know how upset I still am. The coming separation will be hard enough, and I won’t cause him to worry about my mental wellbeing.

I feel his arms circle around my waist, and his warmth seeps into me from behind. Warmth prickles behind my eyes. I’ve come to rely on his sold presence in my life, but we both knew these orders were coming. I’d taken refuge aboard Galactica since being ousted from the presidency and Colonial One, but Baltar doesn’t trust us together.

“I’ll come down as soon as I can,” he promises, and I hum absentmindedly at that thought, as if its too far away to give serious thought. It is.

“Let’s just make the most of tonight,” I say.

“What to do you have in mind?” he asks; he’s always a gentleman, making sure we’re on the same page.

I tilt my head back so we can share a kiss. I’ll miss this. I’ll miss him. I’ve learned to trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life. Maybe that’s why I proceed to give him blanket permission to do whatever he wants tonight. He groans at the thought, and I finally stop scowling for a moment and instead delight in his reaction.

With a few slow but deliberate steps he maneuvers me against the desk in his quarters any my eyebrows shoot up. The desk has been forbidden territory, but the bulge in his pants tells me that he’s excited about what he’s planning.

“You’re gonna have a desk in your school, right?” His lips trail along my jaw, and my pulse speeds up.

“Yes.” I can feel his grin.

“Take off your clothes, Ms. Roslin,” he orders, his voice a low rumble right next to my ear. I almost lose my composure. My throat is suddenly dry, and I’m caught between protesting, complying, and being strangely grateful that he hadn’t used the title _madame president_. I turn in his arms and he’s looking at me expectantly. Neither of us are true submissives, but we’ve indulged in such play a handful of times. Sometimes one of us just needs a break, and for someone we trust to take control. Bill’s burning gaze promises that I’ll enjoy this experience, so I strip out of my clothes. To my shock, he moves behind the desk and sits down, watching me intensely.

“Leave the glasses, and get on my desk,” he says. My heart skips a beat. If Richard had ordered me around like this, I think I’d have slapped him silly. But Richard never respected me. Bill and I respect and trust each other. It’s bond that’s been forged through the fires of Armageddon until its harder than Virgon steel. Bill’s orders are to play, not to try and dominate me personally and professionally.

 _I’m going to be parted from him_ , I think. Instead of breaking down into tears, I saunter around his desk and hop up as gracefully as possible. The polished wood is cool against my bare bottom, and I shiver. 

“Spread your legs.” Well, if he’s trying to distract us, it’s working. Right now, I’m just a woman with my lover, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only person in the universe.

He lets his gaze travel over my face and down to my nipples which have hardened in the cold air, and down to where I’m now on display for him. I squirm under his gaze; this is totally new for me. For a few long moments nothing happens. It’s nerve racking and exciting. How can he keep looking at me like this and not move? How long until he can come to New Caprica?

“Touch yourself.” His self-assured command is spoken clearly into the silence and the firm instruction makes my stomach flutter. Blood rushes to the delicate parts of me, and my heart is thundering so loudly it drowns out almost all external sound. 

“Bill- “

“Please? I want to watch you.” His husky voice is gentle now, and I know we’d shift gears if I really protested. A sharp throb of lust has pulsed through me at his obvious desire.

“Yes, sir,” I say, making sure to add a flippant air to the ‘sir.’ He grins and shakes his head at the obvious sass. My hand trembles as I run my fingers over my skin. I’ve never been so aware of my own body. We’re going to be separated for a while, so I decide to give him a show he won’t quickly forget. He can remember this sight that’s all his in case he ever is tempted to look twice at Tigh. It’s not like I’m planning on finding anyone on New Caprica, and I honestly don’t think there’s any one who’ll take my place up here.

I run my hands over my neck and down my shoulders slowly. When I reach my chest, I first pass over my breasts lightly and then circle the area. When I glance over at him to see his reaction, I can see he’s aroused; it’s in the tightness of his jaw, the way he’s holding himself absolutely still. I wonder how far his self-control goes.

I cup my breasts in my hands, squeezing and releasing them in a languid rhythm before flicking my nipples with my thumbs. They’re standing out proudly, begging to be pinched and rolled just how I like. In a quick shift, I pinch one hard between a thumb and forefinger and gasp loudly into the air. His eyes widen in excitement, the only move he makes, but for Mr. Stoic it’s quite the reaction. I see how his eyes are fixed on every move my hands I make, and I watch the conflicted moment come when I leave one hand to toy with my breasts and use the other to trail an index finger over my stomach and across my thighs. My own self-control is waning; I’m wet and ready. I can hear his breathing become unsteady as my finger draws closer to my clit. My toes curl as I keep control of the wicked sensations running through me.

I reach my drenched folds.

“Stop,” he commands. I think I wanted to murder him less when he threw me in the brig. I growl and focus on breathing, trying to slow my raging pulse. He has to know that I’m aching for him to touch me, even if I’m also tempted to throw him out an airlock at the moment. I grimace; it’s probably only presidents and admirals who are allowed to throw people out airlocks.

I’m panting heavily, my breath coming in short bursts while he slowly stands. I can sense his body heat and I smell his scent as he steps between my parted legs. With deliberate restraint, he pulls my hands from my body and pushes them back so that they’re at the edge of his desk. I’m now arched over the place he works, breasts pushed out, legs spread, and body flushed with desire.

“You’ll keep your hands right there,” he growls next to my ear, and for a moment the I feel the texture of his wool uniform against my naked body, and I moan. Before I can rub against him, he sits back down and looks me over from head to toe. 

“I’ve spent a lot of time at this desk,” he says, running a hand over the smooth wood and picking up some reports off to the side. He sighs. “And I’ll be spending a lot more time stuck behind it.” He sets the reports somewhere off to the side. I’m shaking with the strain to hold steady as he folds his hands like I’ve seen him do a hundred times before from behind this desk. But this time, those folded hands are between my naked thighs, and its driving me insane.

“I’m forced to work here, but now I’ll have this image the prim and proper Secretary of Education, my strong and determined president, and my brave and resilient Laura sitting on my desk and desperate for me. It’ll make the time pass easier,” he says, his voice is rough, and low. He’s talking more than he ever dues, and I know what he’s doing. It brings an ache to my heart. “I will frak you across this desk soon, Laura. And when I come down to New Caprica, I expect to find a fierce and brave schoolteacher. I’m hoping she’ll bend me over her desk.” 

I laugh breathlessly at the thought. It’s something to which we can look forward. It’s also a challenge; he’s telling me not to let New Caprica break me. He’s promising we won’t be parted forever.

I yelp when he finally touches me, running his hands along my thighs before grabbing my ass. He hauls me toward the edge of his desk, so I’m barely perched on the edge.

When our eyes meet, through the lust he smiles at me and I read his deep affection for me. It’s breathtaking in its intensity, and, as if he knows how easily it might overwhelm me, he turns his attention towards his target.

“Keep your thighs spread, Roslin,” he orders. “And hold still.”

He strokes the outside of my folds a few times, like he wants to memorize the feel of if against his fingers. I grasp the edge of his desk in an almost painful grip to keep myself steady when he spreads me open and bends down to lick into me. His touch shoots electricity through my body, and I close my eyes as he slides his tongue to flick against my clit. He doesn't let up, sucking hard on my clit, then dipping back down to tease me. I’m panting and moaning, but he just keeps alternating between hard, deep licks and softer sucking and nuzzling of my inner folds. Occasionally, he just rests motionless on my clit, and I’m held at the edge of bliss. He finally pulls back, and I’m quivering with the need to orgasm.

I open my eyes and see him. He’s absorbing the picture of me on his desk like this, unsure of whether he’ll see it again. It hits me; I might never be allowed back on Galactica. _Bill might not be allowed down on New Caprica._ At that thought, I let go of the desk and reach for him to yank him from his chair. I wrap my arms around him and feel him undoing his belt. I take a deep, shaking breath. The sound of him unzipping his pants echoes through the air and I whimper when I feel his hard penis against my drenched entrance.

I brace myself with the last of my strength and push against him, needing to feel him inside me. He presses forward, stretching me exactly like I need him to. His fingers bite into my skin and he continues pumping into me, faster and faster, while he pants and moans. I‘m getting light-headed and my vision blurs. I come with a scream; I know it’s his name. After that, I’m floating. _When did my reality become so linked with someone else? Maybe it’s a good thing I’m going down to the planet. We’ve gotten too close._

With a final deep thrust and a deep groan he empties himself inside me, and we fall back against the desk. His breath is loud in my ear, tickling my neck and stirring my hair. I am engulfed in his scent, his warmth. I am so grateful for this man who gives into our lust but also makes a point of caring of Laura. I never asked him to, but he does.

His thumb traces under my eyes, gathering the moisture there. He steps back and I quietly whimper when he withdraws from me. More tears are falling from my eyes. He is there again, strong hands around my waist, slowly and carefully picking me up. Together we sit back in his chair, arranging ourselves so I’m comfortable on his lap. My throat feels tight, and my chest is constricted by a flood of emotions. He kisses me, and his lips are sweet and soft on mine. Our arrangement was supposed to be simple, and yet my heart is breaking at the thought of going down to the planet alone tomorrow.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt choices were: Rimming | Lactation | Dominance/Submission | Mirrors.  
> I think this is the kinkiest and smuttiest thing I've ever written (give it a few more days).  
> Like? Dislike? Constructive criticism? Encouragement?


	7. Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -What!?   
> -Most of my attention today was on 'Chained by War and Love.'  
> -Done *barely* in time.

Before the election…

Baltar shifted uncomfortably on the couch in Adama’s quarters, wondering why it lacked the decency to swallow him whole. The Admiral’s gaze bore into him. The doctor took a long drink of whiskey. Then he just downed the whole glass when he noticed invisible Six laughing at him from where she leaned against the bulkhead.

“So there is an alternate method of Cylon detection based on their spines being different?” Roslin asked from where she sat on the couch.

"Yes. Well, sort of,” Baltar said. “The Sharon in the brig explained it to me you see.”

“I don’t see, Doctor. That’s the problem. Give it to us fast and straight,” Saul growled. “Stop wasting everyone’s time.”

"They glow red under very specific circumstances,” Baltar squeaked.

"And what circumstances are those precisely?" Adama asked. 

"Orgasm." Six had never laughed so hysterically in her life at Baltar. "Their spines glow red when they, uhm, orgasm."

"How the hell do we test using that?” Saul asked.

Laura shot a grin to Bill when no one was looking.

…

They both knew the other wasn’t a Cylon. To have some fun, they agreed that a final test wouldn’t be totally unwarranted. Besides, the mirror hadn’t been too hard to rig up in Bill’s rack.

Laura caught sight of them in the reflection. She could see everything. The look on her face was one of passionate abandon. Her skin was flushed, and her hair tangled across his pillows as she lay flat on her back. Bill was thrusting between her spread legs, and Laura watched the bounce of the rack every time he pounded into her.

It was the sight of their fingers laced together on each side of her head was what sent her over the edge.

The whole thing was erotic like she couldn’t believe. His large form covered her almost entirely, and she was treated to a view of the muscles in his ass working away. His back and shoulders rippled with power and strength as he took her.

Erotic, yes, but it was beautiful too. They were an older couple stressed and worn with responsibilities. But here in Bill’s rack, they became just two normal people enjoying one another’s company. Laura looked into the mirror and saw two people who deeply cared and trusted each other moving together as one.

With a long groan, Bill thrusted once, twice more, and spilled into her with hot, pulsing spurts. She kissed his cheek and grinned.

“Well, Admiral, your spine doesn’t glow.”


	8. Sleepy Sex

Laura smiled sleepily, waking in a cloud of warmth and contentment for once on New Caprica. She noticed a patch of morning sunlight slipping in through a crack in the clumsily secured flap of her tent, and it snuck over the cot, warming the quilt covering her. Bill’s arm was draped over her, more comforting than any blanket she’d ever laid under. 

Yawning, she resisted the desire to go back to sleep. They’d tried to stay up all night and not waste a moment of time together. When both of them kept dozing off under the stars, Laura had pulled him back to her humble home where they’d crawled into bed together. She’d done it without thinking, stripping off her flowing cardigan and skirt while he shucked his uniform jacket and trousers. With the soberness of dawn, she remembered that she never allowed a man to stay the night in her bed. There were rules; when it's over, it's over. Walk away. No one gets hurt. 

Sometimes, Laura wondered if she had an ice cube where her heart should be.

She and Bill hadn’t frakked; they’d simply fallen asleep holding each other close while lingering in a pleasant haze of smoke and booze. Now Laura waited for embarrassment to set in, to feel uncomfortable with this new intimacy. Instead, she just felt good. 

Her bedmate pulled her closer in his sleep. She suppressed a giggle; so, Admiral Adama was a cuddler. Her brief mirth gave way to a sad smile. Human touch was an indulgence due to their positions. They were expected to be a buttress to others, proverbial pillars of strength. And yet some days Laura craved human contact. Fleeting touches and handshakes that were over in a moment barely counted.

Feeling their bare skin pressed together, Laura tried not to think of his looming departure. Instead, she burrowed deeper into the body sharing her bed, entwining their legs together. Pressed so close to him, Laura noticed the individual hairs on his arm around her, and she traced her fingertips over the skin there. _Soft_ , she thought. 

“Can't a man sleep?” Bill asked, voice thick with sleep and the lingering effects of alcohol and smoke. He pressed a kiss into the nape of her neck, nuzzling against the hair there. Laura’s breath caught in her throat at the blatant display of affection.

“Aren’t you military types supposed to get up before sunrise?”

“I am,” he rumbled, a boyish grin in his voice. He rocked his hips towards her, a noticeable bulge swollen inside his boxers. They shared a sleepy chuckle at the ridiculous gesture. Her eyes, still gritty from sleep, fluttered as he placed soft, gentle kisses down the side of her neck and across her shoulder. His palm trailed up into the hem of her shirt to rest on her bare stomach, tracing lazy patterns there. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Me too.”

They rested in silence for a moment, caught between waking and sleeping.

“Any plans before you go back?” Laura asked, tilting her head to look at the man spooned behind her. He closed his eyes and pretended to think while his fingers traced up along the underside of her breasts, his fingers like a whisper against her skin.

“Plannin’ on spending more time with you.” 

“With me or in me?” 

“What?” 

“Prepositions are important, Bill.”

He chuckled, a full-bodied thing that had him grinding into her. Under her shirt, his hands squeezed her breasts in response and then alternated between caressing and kneading at her soft flesh. She hummed when his fingers brushed over one of her hardening nipples, and he proceeded to use his thumb to swirl around and make them even tighter. 

“ _IN,”_ he said, the deep baritone of his voice vibrating against her ear as he tweaked a hardened peak between a thumb and forefinger. She sighed at the little bolts of pleasure shooting into her body. Did she need skin to skin contact this much or had Bill learned her body that well?

Laying on their sides only gave Bill one hand to really work with, so he gave Laura’s breasts a last thorough caress before moving down. A firm thigh pushed between hers, opening her up to give his talented hand access to her core. Sleep addled and hung over, Bill Adama still easily slid past the waistband of her panties and cupped her mound. Bill’s solid chest behind Laura, his erection pressed against her lower back, and his warm hand now held against her desperate core turned Laura’s breaths shallow. She waited patiently, waiting to see what he would do to her.

His fingers slid easily against her slit with the amount of moistness he’d already aroused in her. Every time he ran over her clit, she couldn’t stop her hips from bucking down into his touch.

“Can I frak you now, Laura?” he asked, the unmistakable hard swell of his arousal pressed firmly against her from behind. 

“I don’t know, can you?” 

She mewled as he yanked his hand out of her panties. He pushed her over, onto her back, his bulk moving over her, and he looked down with bleary but narrowed eyes. The quilt fell around his shoulders, and his musky, masculine scent engulfed her. She wondered how long it would linger in her pillow and sheets after he returned to Galactica. 

“I’m too tired and hung over for grammar lessons, Ms. Roslin.”

Laura grinned, looping her arms around his neck, and letting one hand tangle into his disheveled hair. Laura decided bedhead was a sexy look on the normally composed man. She could only imagine how she looked to him; tired with messy hair fanned out around her and blushing in arousal. “Well Admiral Adama, I guess you’ll have to come back to the surface for lessons.”

“Will they be one-on-one?” 

“Depends. What if Zarek or Russo need a lesson?”

“No,” Bill growled as jealousy raced through his veins and pooled hot between his thighs. No sharing. He fixed his gaze on her green eyes still hazy in the dawn. Under him, Laura grinned slyly and unfurled like a cat under him, arching and stretching her body. His eyes darkened at the seductress playing her games. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, propping herself up on her elbows. They spent long moments rubbing their cheeks together, running their nose along their partner’s, and resting their foreheads together. They stayed in this gentle and sensual dance, fully waking their senses and only when they couldn’t resist any longer did they begin to exchange slow, languid kisses. 

Abandoning their underwear, Laura parted her thighs further and pulled him between her legs. Bill obliged and thrust into her inch by inch, his considerable girth stretching her. Both of them groaned loudly when he bottomed out, his back arching, eyes shut. His first thrusts hit every nerve along Laura’s channel, sending a fire racing through her body.

He hooked one leg around his hips, slipping his cock deeper into her pussy. He was so deep that she shuddered, begging with a squeeze and pulse of her inner muscles for more, for faster. Laura ran her hands over his back, moaning into his ear how good he felt, how much she wanted him.

“Laura,” Bill groaned but did not oblige by speeding up his pace. Maybe if he wasn’t still fighting feeling drowsy, he’d take her harder. Instead, his eyes shut tight as he slowly ground into her and then pulled out again. When she moved to scratch at him, he took her wrists in each hand and pinned them to the sides of her head as he held her down. All she could do was whimper and squirm as he frakked her good and slow.

“Mine,” he said under his breath. She flushed and went quiet, not sure if he’d even meant to say it. Even if he hadn’t, the next thrust brought her to climax. Release surged through her, pulsing around the thick intrusion in her. She continued to shudder at his slow movements; the drag of his cock hitting all the right places inside of her. He grunted and picked up his pace, allowing his thrusts to get faster. Laura felt that tight feeling gets tighter in her core, pressure and pleasure building up every time his cock pushed into her. 

Finally, when he bite down hard on her neck, marking her as his, and his hot seed erupted inside her, did she come again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Family emergency has put us behind by one day. Hopefully soon there will be two updates in one day.   
> -Sleepy sex was the prompt. I had to write this pretty quickly or fall even further behind.   
> -Preview for tomorrow: stalking is the prompt I chose.   
> -Maeve loves encouraging comments. Maeve also loves constructive comments. Maeve just likes hearing from her readers.


	9. Stalking

A figure snuck through the tents of New Caprica City; a pathetic play on a name that tried to invoke spirit of the once glorious, gleaming capitol city of the Twelve Colonies. It failed. There was nothing even marginally magnificent about the human settlement. Poorly secured canvas tents clapped in the wind, and people trudged through the mud, kicking up the muck until it got everywhere. At least the sun shone overhead for once.

Kara Thrace narrowed her focus to only the person slinking through the alleyways of tents. They cast furtive glances over their shoulder and clearly had no idea that _all_ of these tents were occupied by former military personnel. Laura Roslin lived in the center of the circle of ex-military abodes, arranged without her knowledge by the Admiral, in an effort to keep the former president safe. The attentive former soldiers had already foiled attempts of violence against former president Roslin, so the sight of said woman slipping past her secret web of protection put Kara on alert. Laura’s secretive body language, with her head looking all around her to make sure no one was following her, alarmed the ex-pilot.

Hugging her light jacket around her, Laura walked toward the edge of the settlement. It was a crisp New Caprican day that would have been cold but for the shinning sun. Slipping on the uneven ground, Laura quickly recovered and cast a last look around to make sure no one was following her. (Rolling her eyes, Kara mentally noted to teach Laura how to spot covert surveillance since her own stalking remained undetected.)

Excitement fluttered in Laura’s racing heart as she scrambled up and over the gently rolling hills. Following her secret path, she disappeared into the tree line. The sounds of her steps were muffled by the soft, wet grass although she stirred up a few birds who flew away indignantly after squawking their displeasure at her disturbance. Laura followed a narrow animal trail that she’d discovered months ago and passed trees and moss-covered boulders until it led her into a clearing.

Kara mentally berated the older woman for wandering off alone. Surely, Laura realized how one of Baltar’s goons or any irritated human would love to catch the former president out here alone. Kara spotted at least forty different places to hide a body just from where she was hiding in underbrush and trees. Suppressed a groan, Kara hoped marriage hadn’t turned her into a worrying ninny. Marriage. She’d much rather stalk Laura Roslin through the trees and ensure her safety than spend the afternoon playing happy wife with her darling husband. 

Kara watched as Laura waited in the clearing until leaves rustled and trees croaked in the wind stirred up by the approach of a viper. Despite the smallness of the clearing, the craft expertly set down in the flattest part of the open area. Kara raised an impressed eyebrow at the precision flying.

Laura grinned as the pilot climbed out of the viper, landing heavily on the ground below. The man removed his helmet, revealing the Admiral himself, and Kara remained still and silent while watching the old man cross over to Laura. Her eyes widened in disbelief as the Admiral reached out to touch the former president’s cheek, thumb running over her skin in an unmistakably affectionate gesture. A stab of jealousy shot through Kara as she realized the Admiral had snuck down to New Caprica to see Laura and only Laura.

And yet, Kara couldn’t deny there was something comforting in seeing the two of them together. She watched in shock as the armor that normally covered the leaders fell to the side. Relaxed and completely at ease, a full smile bloomed on Laura’s face as she wrapped her arms around her visitor. Kara suppressed the shocked whistle at how thoroughly Laura continued to welcome the old man; she’d sneak away to visit Laura too if it got her kissed that thoroughly. Not wanting to head back to the settlement and her ball and chain, Kara reclined back on a rock and watched.

Laura showed Bill around the clearing where her cabin would be built. A pretty smile lit up her face and her eyes danced with happiness, and Bill could barely tear his eyes away to see what Laura wanted to show him. Her hair burned crimson in the sunlight, and her pale skin glowed with health. He’d been away too long.

Caught staring, Laura rolled her eyes at him and pointed out where she wanted a small porch to be, a small living room, and a kitchen. She looked at Bill with a cheeky grin, gesturing to where they were currently standing.

"This is where the bedroom will be."

“We’ll have to make sure there’s a sturdy bed,” Bill said as his hands snuck out to rest on Laura’s hips. Laura hummed noncommittally, pondering his statement. _A_ sturdy bed not _our_ sturdy bed; Bill balanced on the tightrope between commitment and status quo. Laura finally admitted to herself that this was no longer just sex between them; it was a cascading ball of passion, romance, and fire that left her burning with warmth long after he left.

“Until then?” Laura asked, pulling them both back into thoughts of today instead of the murky future.

“We find a sturdy tree.”

Laura moved closer to him. "Is that really what you want?"

Kara’s jaw was practically on the ground as she watched the scene playing out. She remained rooted to the spot, utterly captivated. Admiral blushed as he shifted in embarrassment.

"It was just an idea I had.”

"Aside from throwing me in the brig, you’ve been known to have some good ideas. I think I like where this one is going,” Laura assured him, aware they both had a history of being with sexually incompatible partners whose lingering shadow made them sometimes question their desires. Bill wasn’t used to being turned down gently and without ridicule. However, Laura thought it a wholly excellent idea if Bill wanted to frak her against a tree like she hoped he did.

Bill stood back a little, his hands still on her hips as he looked her up and down, double checking her willingness. At her teasing grin, an almost feral look burned in his eyes. She backed away a little, the look in her eyes daring him to come after her.

"Laura…" her name was a husky whisper as Bill stalked after her. Laura shivered at the predatory look in her lover’s eyes and felt a surge of arousal. From Bill, such a look only seemed promising instead of threatening. She swallowed quickly and licked at her lips as Bill backed her against the trunk of a nearby tree. She leaned against the tree, pressing against the sturdy trunk to keep herself steady.

Bill leaned in and captured Laura’s lips with his own, dragging them into a heated kiss. He tried to put all of his feelings into it, the depth of how much he’d missed her and cared (loved) her. Finding her wrists, he held them against the tree with his larger hands, the bark biting into their skin.

“I sometimes worry what you’ll think of me,” he admitted, holding her in place and letting their foreheads rest together.

Against his wrists, the pads of his fingers bore into her skin like live flame, but Laura smiled gently as she met his eyes again. "You’re safe with me. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something just like you would."

“What did I do to deserve you?” Laura cocked her head to the side. They were both rather lucky, she thought, having found the person who fulfilled what they truly needed in a partner and not just what they asked for. Laura pushed the thoughts to the side, letting herself be carried away by the feel of Bill’s whiskers against her neck as his mouth moved over her neck and shoulder, licking and nipping at her delicate skin and driving her wild.

"Tell me how you want me,” Laura ordered.

Bill grasped her hands, still pinned to the side of the tree, and pulled them up. Above her head, Laura felt a branch that Bill curled her fingers around.

“I want you to keep ahold of that branch.”

Laura nodded, her chest heaving. Bark scrapping her back and arms dangling from a branch above, Bill ran his hands up and down Laura’s body. She closed her eyes a moment, dropping her head back against the rough bark of the tree as she enjoyed the feel of his hands. She breathed deeply when they wandered across her chest, and the rich green scent of wilderness filled her lungs. She felt so alive.

"Is this what you wanted, Bill? Is this what you fantasized about? Are you going to take me against this tree?” she asked, her words pouring fuel onto the fire. Bill’s cock jumped in his flight suit and, with a growl, he took one breast in each hand and squeezed gently. His fingers tweaked her nipples and then pinched through the layers of fabric. One of his legs went between hers, pushing them apart, and he rubbed it against her mound, tearing a deep throated moan from her. Mixing with their wanton sounds above their heads, New Caprican birds were replying each other in songs.

“Spread your legs wider for me, Laura,” Bill said, his voice rolling over the r of her name in a husky tone that made it sound as much an endearment as it was her name. _Who needs endearments when a man says your name like that,_ Laura thought at the same moment one hand slip under her skirt. The moment his fingers made contact with her bundle of nerves, Laura jerked. Spirals of arousal spread up through her, coiling tightly in her belly. She was torn between pressing down on his hand and pulling herself up by the branch so she could wrap her legs around him. He ran his free hand through Laura’s hair, watching the way the rays of sun gleamed in the strands.

Watching them, Kara knew she was intruding on an intensely private moment between the pair. Lacking a graceful way to sneak away without potentially alerting them, she remained still but gripped the nearby log so hard her nails bit into the wood. Their heavy breathing filtered over to her, and Kara tried to ignore the strange attraction she felt for the unlikely couple. She also tried to ignore the second bolt of jealousy shooting through her as she watched what a great passion looked like. It wasn’t just fevered kisses and slapping skin, but the palpable bond in the air between them. Kara saw that, whether they realized it or not, they’d not only given each other a piece of their hear but a part of their soul. _Soulmates,_ the secret, romantic part of Kara named it.

Held against the tree by Bill’s strong body, a tingling heat ran up Laura’s spine when he pressed harder against her clit. The dulled embers that always glowed between them, were now thoroughly kindled into full flames. She moaned as her entire body seared with desire.

He unwound his hand from her hair for a moment, and she knew he was freeing himself from the flight suit. Once the material was pushed away, his hands lifted her legs on each side of his body. Her skirt bunched at her waist, as he braced her even harder against the tree of the trunk. She used the branch to help support her weight while he used a hand to push her panties to the side. She felt him against her folds now, rock hard as he stroked back and forth across her.

Laura’s eyes pleaded with him as she bucked against him, begging him to complete the journey. He complied slowly, pressing against her then pulling back. Laura moaned loudly, her voice echoing in the clearing with no need to hush her sounds so far away from anyone else.

“I’m gonna take you against a tree now, Laura,” Bill’s hoarse voice said against her ear. Laura laughed, feeling free and playful despite being held against a tree.

“Promises, promis-”

She screamed as he rammed himself home.

Tree bark scrapped into her back, scared birds flew into the air, and sunlight fell against their skin as Bill filled her. He held himself still for a moment, always giving Laura a moment to adjust and feel comfortable. Once he began to move within her depths, they rode the waves of pleasure together. Bill held her tightly to him as he withdrew and thrust forward, his pace quickening. Laura tightened her legs around him, counter-thrusting as much as she could from where she was pressed against the tree. She ground herself against him and tightened her inner muscles, stimulating them both. They both groaned as they reached the apex and Laura screamed again. Bill followed her quickly with one last hard thrust. He held himself tightly inside her, emptying himself into her body with a low, guttural groan.

Laura’s head dropped forward onto Bill’s shoulder. She turned her face into his neck, nuzzling him.

“I’m so glad you could come today.”

“Me too,” he rumbled.

The contented beauty on both their faces transfixed Kara. How had such hard frakking resulted in a feeling of peace between them?

Bill pulled himself slowly from her body, hating the separation. He gently put her down on her feet, holding her steady until he was sure she could stand. He took her hands in his, rubbing the blood back into her. He smiled lovingly at her and stroked over her face.

"Are you all right?”

“Wonderful,” Laura said as she wound her arms around his neck, lacing her fingers together. She sighed happily. "How about we go for a swim to cool down?"

…

Once the viper disappeared into the sky, Kara watched Laura grip her chest as she began to cry. Even though tears streamed down her cheeks, the older woman smiled, looking around the clearing and letting the last few hours of happy memories wash over her. Kara marveled at the depth of emotion Laura Roslin kept hidden under her professional façade.

 _Is it worth it,_ Kara pondered, _to feel such pain and pleasure from such a deep love?_ She didn’t have an answer, but, after subtly ensuring Laura returned home safely, Kara returned to her own tent and hugged her husband. Seeing the despair of two people separated was the reality check she needed, and she reveled in the warm body that slept next to her that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Klema's 'outside' chapter.   
> -Stalking was the prompt.   
> -There's probably a crazy amount of typos, but I'm already a day late in prompts. I'll proofread in November lol.   
> -I love my readers. You make me smile.


	10. Wax Play

The ropes tighten around my wrists as I give an obligatory tug at the ties securing me. Laura has pushed me down onto her mattress and bound me so tight that I can barely move. Gods this woman knows what she wants, and, by the luck of the gods, she wants me.

She’d secured the bonds without even looking at me, and my cock has swollen rock-hard just at witnessing the intensity of her focus. She allows me no space to move; I’m strung so gods-damn tight. Spread out naked on the bed for her, my pulse jumps into a wild rhythm at the thought of what her plans are for me. She’s got a wicked mind.

Satisfied that I’m stretched to her liking, Laura stands back. In the flickering light of the candles, she glows with an ethereal aura. Tendrils of smoke from the burning incense swirl around her body in a hazy embrace; her tent smells of vanilla and sandalwood. She’d been praying when I arrived, pale hands tracing along the lines from sacred scripture while her soft voice flowed through the room. Her reverence gives her beauty an unearthly quality as candlelight flickers in her hair and her green eyes shine.

I’d huffed at her religious display. It’s my comments about her faith that have gotten me tied up and exposed to the cool New Caprican air now biting at my skin. I could have been nicer. Now, she traces a finger all the way from my forehead, down my throat, over my stomach by my scar, and down a leg. I shiver at her touch, skin prickling as the hairs on my body stand on end.

“There are some aspects of religion even you can learn to appreciate, Bill,” Laura says.

I scoff. Admiral Atheist I am, and so I will remain.

“You look down on my faith.” Her voice is admonishing, and I flinch as she rakes her nails over the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs. Her rough caress stops just shy of my dick. There’s a dangerous glint in her eyes. She’s become a chastising Goddess that has swept down to punish the foolish mortal who mocked her. _Good luck, Laura,_ I think.

“Have you ever read the Song of Inanna in the Sacred Scrolls?” Laura asks while leaning down to trail kisses over my chest. I shake my head, rumbling a negative answer; I’ve only read Scroll of Pythia and only so I could track down my wayward president. That’s good enough for me. She hums thoughtfully, pausing briefly before she engulfs a nipple into her hot mouth. My flash of self-consciousness fades as she swirls her tongue around the hardening peak, unbothered by the sparse hairs there. She bites down, sending a surge of arousal through me, before moving onto its neglected twin. I feel both of them harden into stiff peaks, and she grins when a small sound escapes my throat. She props her chin on my chest, watching my face.

“The Song of Inanna has some the best lines in scripture, Bill; ’when my lover returns, he lays down in my bed: his head rests between my breasts. To hear his voice is pomegranate wine to me: I draw life from hearing it.’” Laura recites from memory, letting her voice drop into a seductive purr. I immediately think of my head resting between her breasts, and it’s an erotic vision.

Kissing my skin under her chin, she continues down. She nips and licks as she travels toward my cock. Feeling her blow on the engorged head, and I strain against the bonds in which I’m held. A hand wraps around my length, slowly caressing the hot, smooth skin; my heart now beats in time with the throbbing of my cock. I want nothing more than to burry myself in this woman. My balls tighten as she works me up, hoping for release. Without warning, she lets go.

Her gods be damned.

The cot creaks as Laura rises and walks to the small altar in the corner of her tent. I strain to look up and watch her slow and controlled movements. Each step she takes exudes an aura of strength, control, and power. Not the illusion of power that some seek and fail to capture but the essence of it lives in her. She returns with a prayer candle in her hand, and she raises a questioning eyebrow at me. I nod.

The shock of the first hot drop of wax hitting on my chest makes me gasp. It is instantly followed by another, then another. She draws a path over my chest and down my belly. Wax droplets run over my skin, burning until I squirm. Each sting turns into a pleasant warmth that courses through my body. I feel caught on fire, and I want nothing more than to find release. I can feel precum leaking from my cock, and I am rewarded with more wax. This time it’s dropped from close to my skin, the hotter splatter makes me hiss.

“’Is there anything sweeter than this hour? For I am with you, and you lift up my heart. Is there not embracing when you visit me, and we give ourselves up to delights? If you wish to caress my thigh, then I will offer you my breast,’” Laura continues to recite the Sacred Scrolls as she works, giving voice to carnal delights turned into poetic form. _The Scrolls say that?_ Thoughts of the writings are pushed from me when a drop of wax slides across my shoulder blade, and I take a sharp breath. The pain ins mild and fleeting, and the puffs of Laura’s breath help to cool the wax on my trapped body. I’m helpless as she covers me in the wax from her prayer candle.

Heat splatters near my throat, and the spikes it sends through me leave me desperate. I finally writhe under the heat, and yelp loudly when the hot wax hits my sensitive nipples. She pours more, completely covering them and letting the wax run down my body and onto her sheets. Panting, I strain against the ropes that held me in place. I want to frak her. I want her to frak me. I feel engorged and hot. Laura chuckles. Of course, she is enjoying this. Minx. Spitfire. Hellion. She drips a trail of wax up the insides of my arms and down the inside of my thighs. It hurts so wonderfully that I’m turned into a needy, tied up mess that is most unbecoming of an old warhorse.

She gives me a cheeky grin and blows out the candle.

“Well, Admiral Atheist,” she begins, gliding one hand along the hardened wax. “Is there nothing redeemable to be found in my religion?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. The 'Sacred Scrolls' lines are from an ancient Egyptian poem.   
> 2\. So, Wax Play was the prompt.  
> 3\. Writing these in a day tests my sanity.


	11. Sex Toys

Bill stood at the entrance of New Caprica’s school tent and shook his head in exasperation. Laura sat with both elbows on the desk, staring at the math textbook in front of her. One hand cradled her forehead while the other rubbed her neck. He watched her studying the material with her brows furrowed in concentration. She’d mentioned needing to brush up on teaching math. She remained totally unaware of his presence.

Exasperation battled with affection as he watched her work well after school hours. He admired her hard work— it formed the foundation for their initial attraction. He just wished she’d look after herself more often; he’d noticed that Laura struggled with attending to her own wants and needs. Instead, she cared for others. His heart settled on tenderness as he witnessed how hard she drove herself while hidden away in her school. 

...

I jump when a hand touches my neck. It nudges my hand out of the way, taking its place in order to massage the tense muscles. There’s only a handful of people who’d dare touch me in this way, and only one whose touch I’d welcome. I know Bill’s up on Galactica, so I’m riled up and ready to give this intruder a piece of my mind. 

“It’s me,” a warm, familiar voice assures me as if sensing the panic that’s flared in me. I’ve learned to be wary. At his voice alone though, the coiling tension melts from my body. How could it not? It’s him. 

“Bill!” I gasp, and there’s a noticeable honey-like tone to my voice from how delighted I am to see him. Abandoning my book, I tilt my head to look up at him; we stare at each other for almost a minute, our eyes speaking for us, hinting at the undefined emotions between us. If anyone walks in the tent, they’ll find us grinning like the love-stick people we deny being. 

“I know what day today is, Laura,” he says with a teasing rumble in his voice. His fingers dance down my neck, and I hum at the strong sensations this alone provokes. It’s been over a month since his last visit, and we’d found no time to be alone then. Ever so slowly, he traces down and along the open neckline of my shirt. A deep, overwhelming warmth spreads through me as he softly traces his fingers back and forth along the rise of my breasts, dipping just underneath the lacey edge of my bra. When his touch finds the valley between my breasts, I wonder if he can feel how hard my heart beats. 

I close my eyes, already breathless. “You really visited just for my birthday?” 

“I’ve had plans for months,” he says. His breath is hot against my ear. 

“Really?” It’s sweet to think he’s come down just for a day that I’ve never put much thought into, and a partner certainly never has noted my birthday before. 

I gasp when he lifts me from my chair with ease; I sometimes forget the strength and power always lying in wait under the caring man I’ve gotten to know. He turns me around and leans me against my desk. Butterflies are doing somersaults in my stomach as his hands caress down my back. 

“I promised to frak you across your desk, Ms. Roslin, and I’m a man of my word,” Bill says, and my eyes widen. _Oh gods._ His eyes are burning with desire, and I feel the delicious lick of excitement race through me. How could I have known the stoic commander’s persona hid such a sensual and passionate man. _Never judge a book by its cover, Laura._

"What did you have in mind?" I ask, giving him a teasing smirk.

I watch his face become serious. He looks deeply into my eyes and my pulse jumps. "Laura, do you trust me? I mean, really trust me?"

I don't need to think about my answer. "With every fiber of my being.”

It’s true. I have _never_ trusted anyone the way I trust this man. It terrifies me on some level as much as it comforts me. Before my thoughts can chase each other around, Bill slowly strips me of my clothes. 

“Tonight is only about you,” he says. I can’t help but protest, but he swallows my words with a series of kisses. He finishes removing my clothes and gives me a heart-meltingly earnest look that truly ends my objections. “This is my gift to you." 

Spinning me to face my desk, he gently pushes me down, carefully moving anything in the way. I smile; only Bill Adama would take the time to meticulously remove the objects and make sure nothing gets too out of order. When did his eccentricities become endearing? Resting against the hardwood, the cool surface teases my flushed skin. The edge pushes along the top of my thighs, offering a hint of pressure against my mound. 

“Oh!” I breathe as he takes my wrists and binds them in handcuffs made from soft leather. Someone’s been shopping. He pulls them up over my head, using rope to tie the binders to the legs of my desk.

I turn my head to the side, resting my cheek against the desk. I’m breathing heavily already, and the smell of wood and paper fills me with each breath I take. His hands brush the hair away from my face in the tenderest of gestures before running down my spine. He chuckles when he feels me shiver under his palms. He delights in provoking responses in me as I do in him. 

I feel his hands on my ankles, spreading my legs, and they are cuffed to the legs of my desk as well. A surge of passion races through me at how restrained I am. 

Being at the mercy of someone who I fully trust already has me climbing to a place I’ve never been before; I’m scared and excited all at the same time. This is new. I’m always so controlled, but I’ve found my equal— someone who I can cede power to without fear. Bill won’t use my vulnerability to play power games like Richard who wanted to dominate. Bill wants to care, to lo—

I bite my lip and stay still as something prickles hot and salty behind my lids; it wraps around my chest tighter than any binding. I can’t start trying to define this thing between us. I will admit that this is give and receive on more levels than just physical. 

“Don’t think, just feel,” he murmurs, sensing my distraction, and I nod. The evening air is cold against my skin, so his hands are hot like fire against me. A flash of an image fills my mind, and I wonder how I must look stretched out across my desk, tied down helpless with my legs parted.

Satisfied I’m spread and bound, his palms graze over my thighs, across my back, and he reaches under me to pinch my nipples. I feel them harden under his expert touch before he slips a small disk over each peak. 

“What?” This is _very_ new, but not unwelcome.

“Wait for it.” The unusual clamps tighten around the taut peaks, keeping a steady pressure there even when Bill removes his hands. 

“Oh gods,” I groan when disks start vibrating. A keening moan escapes my throat at the thrilling sensations. He bends down to kiss my cheek, and I know he’s subtly checking on me. 

“I’ve never really used toys much, but I wanted to do something new and different with you. I want this to be a night to remember.” Part of me registers the sentimental thought, and I think it sweet. I also feel like I’m melting from the constant buzzing sensation against my breasts, and I want nothing more than to be frakked until I have a nice, long orgasm. As if sensing my need, Bill’s hands are on my body again, stroking over my back and hips. His fingers play over the soft skin of my inner thigh before gently kneading around my ass. 

I gasp loudly when I feel something wet and cold against my core. Bill’s fingers, coated in lotion, penetrate me deeply and I arch off the desk as much as the bindings allow. He generously spreads some kind of lubricant all over me, thoroughly preparing me for whatever he has in mind. He works it in well, thrusting in and out, and I must be dripping onto my desk. Heat pools at my center, and I moan in protest when his fingers leave my body. Without wasting time, he presses against my other entrance with more lubricant. The vibrations on my breasts, the attention to my core, and the thrill of being restrained have turned me into a pliant mess, and he pushes into me with little resistance. He works the lube in with gentle thrusts. By the time he pulls away, I’m completely ready for whatever he wants to do.

Something hard presses against me and I flinch at the coolness. Bill chuckles in that low, sexy way he does. 

“I’m an old man, Laura. I can’t go as many rounds as you. I need a little help.” Understanding flashes in my mind, and I lick my lips in anticipation. He presses the dildo against me again, and I thrust back against it with my limited movements. He pushes and pulls it several times, working it into my body until he shoves it home in one firm thrust. I’m filled to the hilt. Holy Hera it feels good. 

And then another toy is pressed against my rear and my rather inventive lover eases it in next. When he finishes pushing it in, I’m completely full, whimpering and moaning at the intensity of the sensations. Then he turns the damn things on. Vibrations tear through me, coming from three different spots on my body. I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin, the feelings are so strong. My legs tremble and my arms shake as waves of pleasure roll through me.

“Ready?”

“Please,” I moan, and he places a kiss on the small of my back. He thrusts the toys in and out of me, filling me again and again. He’s a patient man, slowly building up in speed while my inner muscles clench and ripple as I’m constantly filled. I might lose my mind. My nails are biting into the leather of the cuffs and the wood of my desk. I’m climbing ever upwards in a state of bliss that I never believed possible. My heart might burst. He freaks me hard with the toys until my world explodes into my first toe-curling orgasm of the night. I arch and writhe against the bindings. He does this again and again until nothing exists except the indescribable pleasure, I’m trapped in. 

While I’m still in the aftershocks of another ground-shaking orgasm, I feel him release my ankles from their bindings. He massages sensation back into the still trembling limb and then turns me over on my desk so that I’m facing up. 

He looks damn smug.

He’s earned the right to be as infuriatingly smug as he wants to be.

He leans over me, kissing me deeply and thoroughly. I arch into him, wanting to feel the touch of his skin. Vibrations from the toys still pulse through me as our lips dance for long moments, they keep me buzzing with excitement. He pulls away and looks down at me. I see the hunger in his gaze. It’s needy and intense, and it sends another surge of heat through my body. 

I hear the clicking sound of a control and the vibrations at my breasts increase while the clamping mechanism tightens further. The pleasure is exquisite. He runs a thumb around the disks attached to my nipples, feeling the intensity of the vibrations himself. 

“I can’t take much more,” I whisper.

“One more round. That’s all,” he promises and finally strips of his uniform. Pushing the last pieces aside, he stands at the end of my desk gloriously naked. I groan at the sight of him hard and straining. I’ll never get tired of the sight of him naked and filled with lust. He reaches for my legs, wrapping them around his hips. With my hands still bound above my head, there’s nothing I can do but lock my ankles around him; I’m open to him, and all the power and control in his hands. His hands sweep over my body, finally settling between my legs. Quickly he yanks the dildo from my vagina and then plunges his impressive manhood into me. 

I scream silently, barely able to contain what would have been a blood curdling sound. He lays over me on my desk, and I wish my hands were free so I could hold this incredible man filling me. He feels huge, and I realize he’s wearing something at the base of his penis. His erection spreads me wider and drives in deeper than it ever has before. Holy frak the man is trying to kill me. I gasp as my walls are stretched. I can barely breathe. He pulls back deliciously slow and slams back in. He’s already a well-endowed man, but with the toy each stroke makes him feel even larger.

The school fills with the sounds of flesh slapping, and our muffled moans of pleasure. He pounds into me with abandon as I urge him on with breathy pleas. Another coil of pleasure begins inside me, and I’m in blissful agony as Bill slides in and out of my body. Over and over, he thrusts and retracts, stretching and filling me in the most delicious way I’ve felt. All the while, the toys at my nipple and ass are vibrating away and helping build me up to another crescendo. Each nerve ending throbs and buzzes, and my ears are ringing. 

My entire body strains against the bonds holding me, as wave after wave of the most powerful orgasm of my life ignites every nerve ending in me. It’s as intense as any super-nova. My lover grasps my hips and plunges home one more time before he groans and spurts deeply into me. 

We lay together for some time over my desk. I come back down slowly, body throbbing and spasming as I try to force my eyes open. I whimper unashamedly when he slips from my body. Gently he removes the toys and turns them off. He frees my hands before lifting me in his arms. He probably knows there’s no way I can walk right now. He sits down in my chair with me on his lap, and we relish the blissful afterglow.

“Did you enjoy, Laura?” he asks, a touch of nervousness in his voice. I grin happily and snuggle further into his embrace. 

“Oh yes. Where the hell have you been all my life?” I feel his relieved sigh at my obvious enjoyment of the night’s proceedings. 

“Happy Birthday, Laura.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...uhm...sex toys was the prompt, and it *might* have gotten away from me a bit.  
> Who wants their very own Bill Adama?


	12. Dirty Talk

If only I’d met Laura a lifetime earlier. If only we’d met under different circumstances. We could’ve been genuinely happy.

She was my enemy who became an ally, a friend who became my lover. She invited me into her body and then snuck into my heart. We fulfilled each other’s needs and built _something_ together. I’d like to think we were a force to be reckoned with; I’d like to think Laura will always be a formidable force no matter the circumstances.

I take a sip of rotgut and it burns down my throat. I feel it even now; that undefined and undeniable pull between Laura and me. It’s like an invisible string tying us together even though Laura’s trapped on a planet lightyears away. I abandoned her along with all those down on New Caprica after the Cylons arrived. been on duty for almost three days straight, but there’s no quick-thinking, magical rescue I can provide. The sheer weight of what I’ve done crashes around me.

I touch a letter on my desk. It was meant to be sent in the next mail run, but the Cylons came.

_Dear Laura,_

_I have never been good at talking. Whenever I try to express emotions in me, my throat tightens, and I can say nothing. It’s always been easier for me to put pen to paper in order o say what I need to say._

_You’ve come into my thoughts. You’ve filled them, and it feels good. Never far from my mind are the visits I’ve made to New Caprica, and when I might return to you again. Right now, I’m thinking about the last trip down I made, when our lovemaking was sweet and slow. The rain never let up, but we were happy inside your tent. We read and frakked. You listened to my day and made me laugh. I’ve never known such a woman as you who cares for everyone around you. You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out._

_I dream about being with you again._

_I need to be honest. I’ve started picturing the future. I imagine your cabin and walking into it late at night. The space is built from rough hewn wood. It's already dark except for a few candles while a thunderstorm rages outside just like during my last visit. You’re there with a book in your lap and you giggle when I kiss you because I’m soaking wet in my clothes-civilian clothes. I kiss and nip down your neck and into the valley of your breasts until your giggles turn to hums and your head is thrown back._

_We would undress there living room. I'd lay you on the couch. In the flickering of the candlelight and the lightening bolts from the storm outside, I can see your body writhe with want as I_ _move down your naked chest and suck at your breasts. I nudge your legs apart before taking you with one hand wrapped in your gorgeous hair and the other circling your bundle of nerves. I love being on top of you; I love you being on top of me. I love being with you as long as you are in my arms and pressing to me and we come together as one are._

_Spent and happy, I'd pick you up and carry you to the bed._ _I_ _wish it could be our bed._

_I have a question for you, Laura. One I’ll ask when on New Caprica again._

_Always yours,_

_Bill_

Underneath the letter is my retirement paperwork. Hell, I was supposed to be put out to pasture over a year ago. I would have settled with her, laying down my responsibility to the Fleet in order to be with the woman I love.

I tear the papers into shreds. I let down my guard and now Laura and the rest of humanity might pay the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite as steamy. I love the idea that mr. not-so-talkative is actually really good at writing letters. 
> 
> It got a bit angsty.


	13. Blow Jobs

Laura watched him fiddle with his ambrosia glass, tipping the remaining amber liquid back and forth. It caught the warm light of his quarters, sending it in different directions. With reports for the night done, he’d grabbed the drink and moved over to the couch. Laura smiled when he’d tugged on his pantlegs before sitting down like the quirky old man he was. He slumped back against the pillows with his knees well apart. His hands held the ambrosia right in front of his groin.

It was such a male pose. The sheer masculinity he exuded left her feeling fuzzy-headed with want.

Laura pictured how easy it would be to step between those spread legs and sink to her knees. She’d had the thought several times, and now that they’ve started to feel at ease with each other once again following New Caprica, the fantasy flared to life in Laura again. The flush of arousal rose up Laura’s neck and her heart pounded as she regarded him.

“Laura?”

Her skin burned as embarrassment set in. Had she been staring? “Just a thought,” Laura said, taking a deep breath.

“Some thought,” he teased.

Laura hummed. Yes, it was.

“Care to share?”

“I’m not sure how you’ll react,” Laura said.

“You know that I love knowing your fantasies.” Bill took a sip of the ambrosia, waiting a moment before he pressed her. Knowing when to push Laura and when to back off was one of his life’s greatest mysteries. He was fascinated by the dark heat in Laura’s gaze as her eyes raked over him. He tried to imagine something he wouldn’t be willing to try with her that would make her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“I want to suck you off until you finish in my mouth,” Laura said, and the blunt and almost crude language sent a strong pulse of lust through him. She wanted to…

Wait.

She wanted…

He hadn’t even dared ask for this.

_Damn._

“Are you sure?” he asked, settling his elbows on his knees with the ambrosia cradled between his hands. He heard her sharp intake of breath.

“Oh gods yes.” Laura’s voice was deeper than usual and heavy with arousal. She slowly rose from the table and walked over to him like a graceful lioness stalking her prey. She plucked the glass out of his hands and placed it on the coffee table somewhere behind her.

“Frak, Laura…” Bill said, his voice now sandpaper and whiskey as the beautiful redhead in front of him sank to her knees.

“Have you ever thought of us like this?” she asked while rubbing her hands along the muscled thighs on either side of her.

“Too many times,” he admits, hardening under Laura’s pleasurable caresses. Her hands massage higher, until one hands was cupping him through his uniform pants. The prominent bulge in his pants doesn’t surprise Laura, but her overwhelming urge to drive him wild with her hands and mouth does. She’s always enjoyed bringing her partner pleasure, but there’s something about Bill that makes her want to focus solely on him. When she shaped her hand around him, stroking him through the fabric, he lets out a long, shaky breath. “I couldn’t ask…”

Her grip tightened and Bill jumped in pleasure-pain. Blood rushed to his cock, causing him to swell further in Laura’s hand. “Don’t you trust me?” she asked.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“Then don’t hide your desires from me. Tell me what you want.” Bill groaned. She teased him through his uniform pants, sliding back and forth over his hardened flesh. Her nails scrapping along the sensitive bulge send white hot fire through him, and his head tipped back.

“It’s hard to give those thoughts voice sometimes.” Laura’s heart ached, knowing his ex-wife hadn’t cared enough about him as a lover. He was too passionate and caring to be with someone indifferent to his wants. If Bill wanted a blowjob, she was only too happy to comply.

“I understand. But just talk to me. It’s erotic knowing your fantasies, and I sure as hell want to be the one you fulfill them with.”

“Alright. So long as you do too,” Bill finally said. Anything else he might have spoken was lost when Laura leaned forward to kiss and nuzzle at the tent of fabric before her. The heat from her mouth sank through the wool fabric. “Because there won’t be anyone else.” Shadowed words and vague promises were the closest they came to talking about the nature of their relationship.

The metallic sound of his belt buckle coming undone seemed to echo through his quarters. Slow fingers drew the zipper down until the wool fabric could be folded back and out of the way. Laura pulled the elastic of his boxers down just enough so that Bill’s erection sprang free with a relieved groan. His shaft jutted out proudly, full hard and begging for attention. Laura stuck her tongue out and flicked it against the head of Bill’s cock.

Bill felt like he’d died and gone to heaven.

She licked from the bottom to top, earning a low growl from Bill. Laura hummed, the sound teasing along his hot flesh. Looking up at Bill and seeing his enrapt attention, a playful delight shone in her eyes. Bill watched her lips and tongue kiss and swirl over the sensitive tip of his throbbing cock. He shuddered with delight as she moved her hand down to his base and squeezed gently while cupping his balls with her other hand. Slowly, she brought her lips down encased just the head of his cock in her mouth. A choked breath filled the air as she sucked on the tip.

Even in Bill’s wildest dreams he didn’t imagine it would feel so good. Laura pressed down, taking his length into her mouth while listening to the rasp of Bill’s labored breathing. His hips nearly bucked off the couch as she bobbed her head up and down and pumped Bill’s cock in and out of her mouth.

He couldn’t believe it. The President of the Colonies, still in her business suit, was kneeling in front of him and sucking on his dick like there was no tomorrow. Bill was mesmerized by the sight between his spread knees. Watching the most incredible woman he’d ever known suck his dick with wild abandon _after she’d confessed to wanting to_ had to be one of the most erotic things he’d ever experienced. She energetically moved up and down his shaft with gusto. One hand still teased his balls while her other hand twisted at his base. Pleasure washed over him as Laura Roslin gave him what had to be the best head of his life.

Bill’s heart beat almost painfully in his chest as she worked him up, keeping a steady rhythm while continuing to fondled his balls. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly when the sound of a long, throaty moan reached his ears. The knowledge that Laura enjoyed this act caused his heart to swell. She was always such a giving lover, and he felt privileged that she continuously chose to share his bed.

His moans grew in volume; his face contorted with the desperate need for release. Laura could taste salty pre-cum on her tongue as he buried his hands in her hair. Laura delighted in reducing the most powerful man in existence to a wanton mess with just her mouth and hands. She enjoyed making such an incredible man feel bliss with her.

Feeling his balls contract, Laura lightly ran her teeth gently along the bottom of his shaft. He had fists of hair in his hands, something Laura hated when Adar did it but found terribly erotic with Bill.

“Laura, I’m gonna…” he gasped. Laura’s grip tightened on him so that he dared not move away. The thought of giving the man before her something he so desperately wanted was overpowering, and she was determined to make him come in her mouth. She wanted to help make his fantasies reality. Her sucking became more powerful and she twisted her head with every pull on his cock she made. Bill bellowed her name as he came, spurting his hot seed down her throat again and again. Laura continued to swallow, taking all he had to give her, relishing the way he came apart only for her. Once his movements slowed, she peered up at him, his face red from exertion, eyes closed as he muttered incoherent words. He looked gorgeous all blissed out on the couch.

“I’ve wanted to do that every time you sit like that,” Laura teased in a deep, husky voice. She tenderly replaced the boxers and uniform pants before moving to sit next to him, her knees admittedly aching from their activities. She considered it worth it. Burrowing into his side, it felt good to just feel for these moments.

“Every time you wear those damn pencil skirts.” Laura laughed as his hand found hers. Contented grins spread on both their features, and Bill wrapped her in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the next time you see Adama sitting like that...  
> Yes my friends, extenuating circumstances have put us two days behind with prompts.  
> Never wrote a blowjob scene, but I think I frakkin' love how this turned out. Balancing smut and some sort of underlying feeling is hard. I don't imagine Bill's used to someone thinking of his wants and needs.


	14. Scent

I always know when Laura is near. A sense of…rightness settles over me, rising up from the base of my spine like a warm wave. Her presence means we might end up fighting, using words to injure the other in a way only a lover can, or we might end up laughing as we work together. However, there is no mistaking the almost tangible bond between us when she is close.

It’s barely noticeable, that subtle reassurance that she’s near. What always hits me is her smell. I always notice Laura’s scent. It hits me whenever she enters CIC and comes to stand beside me. She smells of Caprican Roses; sweet, heady, and elusive. There’s something in the smell of Caprican Roses that never lets anyone forget the inch-long thorns that grows along its stems. Laura has this quality to her; beautiful, sweet, and dangerous as hell if someone isn’t careful.

Men and women come to attention around CIC, and Laura’s voice puts them at ease. She steps up to stand beside me at my station in CIC, and I inhale a deep breath of her unique fragrance. I need to take a moment to center my thoughts and stay in control. She’s heady, intense, and powerful. I’d drag her to my quarters right away if I could. But the President has come to CIC; Laura my lover must stay away. Frakkin’ decorum.

Another inhale. I shift toward her, breathing in what makes my body want to betray me. She’s sparing with her perfume, and the lightest application mixes with her own unique smell so well. Caprican Roses. Woman. It seems to bypass any barriers I have around myself, surging around my stoic persona, and reminding me of the lovely woman underneath the president at the most inopportune times. My skin heats. I’ve buried my nose in the tender flesh of her neck where her scent is strongest. I’ve smelled that unique scent that is Laura mix with her warm arousal.

Our eyes meet, and a definite surge passes between us. 

I leaned in closer to whisper something in her ear. Proximity makes her smell stronger, until it almost washes away the metal and oil scents that make up living on a Battlestar. Battlestars are war machines. They smell like sweat and a mechanic’s shop with a strange dose of military soap on top of it. Breathing in Laura takes me away from it all. The smell of her skin, the fragrance that was uniquely hers, was intoxicating.

She’ll smell like me later. The heat in her gaze promises this to me. She’ll leave Galactica with traces of wool and military soap clinging to her body. Laying down to sleep on Colonial One, she’ll catch a whiff of what remains of our activities between her legs. She’ll think of me, of us, as she goes to sleep. I’ll be on Galactica with the smell of Caprican Roses lingering on my pillow, and I’ll wait for the day when she never has to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might have gotten a bit ruanchy the last few chapters. Here's a nicer one. Scent?!?!
> 
> Reviews? Comments? Constructive criticism? Praise? Ideas?   
> I'll take it all my friends.


	15. Rough Sex

“What the hell was that, Bill?” 

When I’m thoroughly pissed off, it’s scary enough to send most people running for cover. Not Bill though.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  _ Oh. He’s taking that route. Fine.  _

“You nearly ruined the press conference,” I snap. My anger is burning so bright that I feel like I’m on fire. 

Bill’s fingers dig into my hips and I taste the raw energy that pulses in the space between us. Gods we can argue. I know colleagues are bound to disagree. Sharing a bed hasn’t meant that we two strong-willed people have started seeing eye to eye on everything. Oh we still fight.  _ Especially when he’s too stubborn to realize that he’s wrong. _ Actually, we’re so used to arguing and making it up to each other that we’ve found ways of doing it more conveniently.

The rack on a battlestar is a wonderful place to work out our aggressions. 

I’m bent over on my hands and knees before him. Bill’s gripping my waist, pounding into me from behind. The room is filled with the sounds of flesh slapping, combined with our grunts and moans of pleasure. It’s powerful and raw. I’m going to feel thoroughly frakked for days. _Exactly what I want._ _Exactly what he wants._

“What do you frakkin’ want? It’s my job to protect this Fleet, not placate reporters,” he argues as he slams into me again sending heat spiraling through us both. I met his powerful thrusts by pushing on the shelf at the head of his bed with one hand while the other rubs at the excited bundle of nerves above where we are joined.

I’ve urged him not to hold back and I know he doesn’t want to be gentle right now. We want the tension and anger worked out of our system in a way that involves neither brigs nor sulking silences.  _ So what if sometimes I’m so worked up I want to be frakked so hard that I can barely walk.  _ We’re covered in lovebites and scratches. We’ve worked up to sex this rough; it needs trust and neither of us want to truly hurt the other. I look forward to the soreness later that will help soothe the remainder of my frayed nerves. The sting of pleasant memories instead of just biting words.

His hands find a breast as it swings with the force of each impact between our bodies. The whining moan is pulled unbidden from my belly. He knows how to play with my breasts, switching between pinching and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and kneading the whole area.  _ Gods I want this man. _

“I want you to frak me harder and try to be diplomatic for once, Bill,” I growl, my voice a breathy rasp. 

A big hand between my shoulder blades pushes me face down into the cool sheets. 

“If you had listened to me before talking to the press,” he says. I know he’s angry. I know he disagrees with many of my decisions. He plunges back inside, pumping harder as his frustrations are let loose. Covered in sweat, both his and my own, I cry out in unrestrained joy at the white hot pleasure. His cock is long and thick, and it fills me completely, the head of him hitting my cervix hard enough to make me scream. 

_ Perfect, oh, god perfect!  _

“I listened,” I pant, “even if I made a choice you don’t like. I always listen to you,” I manage to say. Tremors rip through me. My eyes won’t stay open. My mind loses track of time. No more arguing. No more anger. Just the firm pressure of the man I care deeply for taking me over and over again.

We are moving in a rough unison, finding a rhythm together, and reconnecting through sharing our bodies and letting our frustrations go. His teeth grazed my shoulder, kissing and licking. Then his nibble becomes a startling bite, and I cry out as my orgasm convulses through my body. Grinding into me with one last lunge, Bill’s seed burst forth.

Exhausted beyond measure, we collapse onto the mattress. Bill carefully rolls us onto our sides, as the aftershocks pass and our bodies gradually settle. I shift to face him, tracing over the worn planes of his face. We’re spent. We’ve raged. We’ve fought. Now it’s time for peace and the calm after the storm. I don’t get up and run like I might have once done, but I linger in his arms. We feel good curled up together in his rack. 

“I do value what you have to say, Bill. There’s no one I’d rather be leading this Fleet with. You know that.”

“It’s just been a frustrating couple of weeks,” he says, taking my hand and placing a gentle kiss on the palm. He won’t say an apology and I won’t make him. We do what we think is best for the Fleet and there is no need for apology in that. 

“We’ll get through together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3 Love to the readers.
> 
> Drop me a comment or leave a critique. It's good to hear from ya'll.


	16. Voyeurism

I’ve accepted that Laura is even better at the game than I am. It is part of what makes her alluring, a worthy opponent, and (hopefully) a challenging conquest. 

I use my charisma and eloquence to great effect, charming the people around me. It’s amazing what flashing a bad-boy smile and speaking honeyed words can get a man. None of it works on her. Laura Roslin stands on her own. She set herself up long ago as the rallying point of the Fleet, playing the hand she’s been dealt masterfully. Frak, she makes the rest of us like it when we lose. 

Prophet and president. 

Kind at heart and brutally pragmatic. 

Desirable. 

My head always swims like this before and after seeing her. Right now, I’m a man on a mission, striding with purpose towards her office. It’s late on Colonial One. I figured Laura might have been retired for the night, but why would that dissuade me? After the labor strike that happened in the Fleet and Adama threatening to shoot one of the leaders— Cal...whatever her name is… I’ve come to talk. Laura to do something to limit that military brute’s power. 

Someone needs to tell Adama where to shove his heavy-handed militarism. If he’s to listen to reason, then it must come from her.

However, I know Laura Roslin is her own woman. She’ll do whatever the frak she wants. There’s no room in her world for anyone or anything beyond her mission to save the human race.

Her office is empty. When I hear Adama’s voice on the other side of the curtain that hides Laura’s quarters from view, I don’t barge inside. I press close to the barrier, unable to resist the opportunity to uncover what these little meetings of theirs are all about. Maybe I’ll learn something that will give me the upper hand. I grin at the thought of knocking Zeus from Olympus. 

I’m in luck. The curtain has a small tear in it, something easily overlooked in the years we’ve been on the run. I’m shocked when I peer through it. It’s the kind of shock that paralyzes a man, holding them in place by what they see. Laura’s arms are wound around the Admiral’s neck, and they are kissing passionately. The look of such abject happiness on Laura’s face that surprises me the most. There’s no hidden goal behind her expression— his presence has prompted a more genuine reaction than I have ever seen from her. 

So the head of the military in bed with the head of the civilian government. Do they not see the problem? 

He maneuvers them back so that they fall into her cot, a tangle of limbs and laughter. She wraps her legs around him, bunching her skirt up around her waist, and my blood boils like hot vitriol in my veins while my lips curl back in disgust. She’s frakking him?! How can she want to frak Adama!

“I’ve missed you,” he growls in that too-perfect husk people seem to like. I can see their hips grinding against one another. It’s palpable how much they want each other, and it’s irritatingly intimate to watch the Admiral place kisses all over her face. 

He grabs a fistful of hair at the back of her neck and gently tugs, forcing Laura's chin in the air. His lips trace down the ivory skin of her exposed throat while he slides his other hand under her shirt. She mewls her pleasure and arches as he strokes the tender skin of her stomach. I want to smack those rough, unworthy hands away from Laura as they move over her body. I want those to be my hands.

“You know that if I could keep you in my bed every night I would,” she says. She actually means it. Jealousy and arousal war within me as I try to believe what I’m seeing. It’s painfully obvious they are longtime lovers. Their kisses turn languid and deep and speak to a connection far deeper than quick fraks between meetings. 

“I do know,” he says and they look deeply into each other’s eyes. I don’t expect such tenderness from the military leader of humanity, and I certainly don’t expect to see Laura reacting so strongly to such obvious displays of love. Where’s the power play? Where are the walls they keep around themselves? How can the hard-ass, stubborn, and independent woman that I've gotten to know stand Bill Adama’s bulk over her? For a moment, I hope this is just her way of controlling the military. I’d respect that.

“I want to show you how much I’ve missed you,” Laura tells him. Since when does she talk like this? She runs her hands through his hair, and I’m subjected to the little moans of enjoyment which escape his lips. I’m tempted to announce myself. To barge in and watch them try to compose themselves. I want to look Laura in the eye, to take her in my arms and shake her until she sees reason or stars; I stood by her on Kobol; I returned the presidency to her; I help her rule; I support her.

But Laura probably won’t be embarrassed by my intrusion. She wouldn’t give me that satisfaction. She’ll stand by her choice with pride and determination just like she has for her other questionable decisions. 

I’m rooted to the spot as she works at his jacket and pushes it off his shoulders. Her graceful hands rub and trace along the powerful muscles. She smiles and squeezes his biceps possessively. 

Did I ever have a shot, or was I always going to be prisoner 893893. 

I’ve noticed the longing looks Adama’s given her, but they are nothing compared to the way he looks at her now in private. The atheist looks reverent at every bit of skin he reveals while unbuttoning Laura’s blouse. She struggles out of the pink fabric, leaving her in a lacy white bra. The mounds of her breasts rise and fall with her breath and my mouth waters. I’m not the only one looking at her like a man dying of thirst looks at water. 

He moves a hand between them, nudging her skirt up further and revealing her matching lace panties. I feel my breath catch and fabric straining against my growing erection. 

He nudges the crotch of her panties aside to push a thick finger inside her. She must be wet because he quickly adds a second finger into her body, pressing his thumb to her clit. His finger frakking elicits a beautiful whimper from Laura as she clutches his shoulders for support. 

“Gods, Bill,” she breathes, burying her face in the crook of his neck. 

“You gonna come, Laura?”

“Yes!” Her hips are meeting his fingers moving in and out of her. I want those to be my hands. I want to see her fall apart under me. 

“Come for me,” he orders. “Let me watch you finish.” 

She actually obeys. Who is this woman? Her back arches and she moans while an orgasm wracks through her body. Laura Roslin in the throws of passion is one of the most captivating sights I’ve ever seen. It’s erotic as frak. 

When the Admiral withdraws his hand from between her legs, he maneuvers her so he can drag her underwear and skirt down as well. He unknowingly bares her to my sight. She’s a vision. Her folds glisten with the evidence of her desire for the man who’s not me. 

She raises a hand to his weathered cheek as a slow smile spreads across her face. She looks at him through those stunning, hooded eyes and whispers sweet nothings I can barely make out. I thought the great Zeus was a fool; a whipped dog or a love-sick fool. But as they come together, there’s no lie in the way they look at each other now. The truth hits me. If either of them asked, they’d be married within an hour. Absolute devotion. It kills me how mutual it is. 

I’m fully hard when she slides her hand to the bulge in Adama’s pants. She strokes him through the fabric of his uniform. 

“Do you want me?” Laura asks. 

“Do I ever not want you?” 

“Flirt.”

“Tease.”

“Only for you.” 

Gods I want this woman. 

He’s above her, ready to take what he shouldn’t have. Laura flips them both, pushing him onto his back. He looks surprised but thrilled. She works his pants open and off, dragging them down with his boxers in the same movement. I can’t help but look. 

Frak the gods. He’s bigger than me. I admit it bitterly. His cock is sizable and Laura is between his legs taking the whole length in her mouth. She hums and moans as if she’s enjoying deep-throating the Admiral as much as he surely is. Two men watch sight of the Admiral’s dick slipping back and forth between Laura’s lips. She’s good.

I’ve never been more envious. Before I even realize it, I’m rubbing myself through my pants. My cock twitches and throbs, straining against the material of my pants. The dull friction of my hand is not enough. I shove a hand down my pants instead, grabbing myself.

“Laura…” Bill warns, tugging her back up the bed. “I want to be inside you.

Such a line! I cringe, but Laura grins happily and straddles him. She nips at his lips playfully. She raises up to her knees, reaching between them and positioned his cock at her entrance. She sinks down onto him, gasping at the fullness she must feel taking the Admiral’s girth into her body. It takes my brain a moment to process that Laura Roslin is riding William Adama right in front of me, and she’s loving it. The expressions on both of their faces as she moves up and down is probably the most sensual thing I’ve ever witnessed. Love mixed with pleasure. 

“Oh gods, Bill,” she murmurs, cupping his face in her hands as she rocks her hips. Her voice is lower than I’ve ever heard it, tinged with desire. I drag my hand up and down my cock as it responds to her voice. I know it’s wrong what I’m doing. I don’t care. I might as well enjoy this too. I frak myself to the vision of her auburn hair falling wild about her shoulders, and her skin glows in the light of the stars. 

I almost groan when the dark hands move to unhook her bra, flinging it away. Those hands move fondle her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. I see them form diamond hard points, and I think of how tempting it would be to bite those taut points. I would bite them.

“I need…” she starts, but Adama is already shifting. His hands grasp her hips, helping guide her movements. She yelps as he hits the perfect spot in her.

“Is this what you need?” His hips buck up into her. 

“You,” she pants. “Only you.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Smug bastard.”

“You like it.”

“About as much as you like the giggles,” she says, her hips rising and falling as she rocks over him. He uses the grip on her hips to continuously drive up into her, and her head falls back. I watch enrapt as her breasts sway while she rides Adama up and down. She’s beautiful in her abandon. Sexy. My balls are tightening and tingling as I think of how Laura would feel around me, riding me. I know now that I will probably never get to feel that wonder, even though now I know what a passionately, sexual woman she is. 

“I love your giggles.”

“Harder,” she moans. “Make love to me.”

I wonder if they catch the slip. Adama growls and pounds up into her as she grinds down on him. Their movements become erratic. 

I watch as Laura's body is overcome by the intensity of her release. Her whole body is shaking, her head tips forward, her back relaxes, and her hands dropped to his chest for support. Her hair frames her face, swinging with the continual motion of her body. Adama stares at her with raw desire and affection, tenderly moving her hair away from her face. 

“There’s nothing more beautiful than watching and feeling you orgasm,” he murmurs. There’s a sheen of sweat on their skin. 

“And you know how much I love when you come so deep inside of me,” she says, looking down into his face. “What do you need?”

“You.”

She moans without shame as he thrusts that big cock up into her over and over, pushing her hips down onto him so she can feel him deep inside of her. He leans up, bracing the small of her back with a hand and latching onto the pale skin above her breast. He sucks and nips. When he finally moves away there is a deep purple blotch.

Mine, it says. Of course, she doesn’t mind. It’s been made abundantly clear tonight that they belong to each other. She’s allowed him into her heart, and she holds his. I’ve heard no romantic declaration, but it’s clear that there’s no chance of ever coming between them.

When his eyes roll back in his head and he goes rigid with a grunt of release, she does scream, milking him for every bit of cum as she quivers with a second round of pleasure. The sight triggers my own release. Then I’m pissed that he’s brought her to another peak through however it feels to be pumped full of that gods-forsaken man. She falls against his chest, and he wraps her in his arms. They stay intimately joined. 

Withdrawing my hand, I watch them, comfortable and at ease with each other. That kind of intimacy is hard earned and unshakable. So, I’ve underestimated their bond. I also now know that she’ll never be mine. Someday I want her to pay for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was voyeurism. I saw it coming up, and really really haven't know what to do with it.  
> Who's enjoying kinktober!? Comments/love/critiques/encouragement are all loved and welcome.


	17. Praise Kink

One of the guards uses the comm to announce the President. I push my tired body forward, opening the hatch to admit her. She’s wearing a soft smile, but all I feel is tired.

“Madame President,” I greet her politely, but hear the fatigue in my voice.

“Admiral. We had a meeting…” With a heavy sigh, I motion Laura inside. She frowns. I rack my brain and know this isn’t a Fleet business meeting but just two friends spending time together. I know she realizes I’ve forgotten; I’d have left the hatch open, allowing Laura to slip inside if I’d remembered. 

“Bill, are you ok?” she asks. She never misses anything. I’ve never been good at hiding things. She is reaching out and squeezing a hand before I can stop her. I wince at the pain and stifle a groan. I watch her look down at the hand she grabbed and her eyes take in the bronze fingers now red with fresh scabs at the knuckles. “Oh my gods!”

Her expression fills with concern that’s heart-wrenchingly genuine. Gods I can’t deal with this. _And she would try and apologize, she would promise she would make things better. But then she would just start drinking, and then all of her good intentions would just go out the frakkin' window._ For days I’ve been dwelling on Lee’s words about his mother. I’d had no idea. I should have known. I was the father to two boys, two precious boys, and I’ve failed them so many times.

“It’s nothing, Laura. I didn’t properly gear up for the punching bag. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“You’ve been boxing for decades. You don’t just forget to protect your hands,” Laura says. She folds her arms and gives me _that_ look. It’s the ‘I’m not buying your line of bullshit’ expression, and I move to grab a drink. I can almost see the entire conversation happening just like one of the countless confrontations with Carolanne. Great, I’m thinking of Laura like I would a wife. I feel the irritation clenching my stomach.

“I’ll admit, I got carried away,” I grouse. For good measure, I down a whole glass of whiskey in one gulp.

Laura tilts her head to the side, and I wait for the words of disapproval. The admonishments. She should have plenty to say. I’ve failed her too. I abandoned her on New Caprica. I tried to frakkin’ resign. Gods. Bulldog. Kara. Lee. Zak. I pour another glass as Laura’s footsteps move away.

“Come sit,” she orders, returning with a white medical box. She perches on the edge of the leather couch, back straight and legs crossed like the quintessential proper Caprican lady. I refuse to act like a petulant child while she’s behaving like grace incarnate, so I sit. She pulls out antiseptic and proper bandages before tending the wounds gently. Her voice is soft when she finally fills the tense air between us. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“I needed to work out my frustrations.”

“I’m right here. If you want to talk.” The way her downcast eyes look, I think it wouldn’t surprise her if I tell her no. She knows me, understands me on a level far greater than anyone else has. It’s hard for me to talk and explain. Hell, Carolanne and I would fight about that. Laura shifts nervously. The gentle concern in her voice causes an ache to spread in my heart. She finishes bandages one hand and turns to the other.

“It’s frakking everything. I’ve made so many mistakes and they’re haunting me,” I say, and suddenly it’s pouring out. Not protecting my family. Not protecting her. Failing Lee, Kara, Saul, and Bulldog. My son Zak. I’m on the couch in my quarters baring my mistakes to someone who is not my wife (Carolanne would have been emphatically agreeing with me). A little voice in the back of my mind is telling me I’ll be embarrassed later, but Laura’s hands remain gentle as she finishes her treatment. Bandages on, she runs her fingertips over the work, the ghost touch sending a shiver up my spine.

“I like your hands,” she says, and it is so _not_ what I’m expecting that I don’t know how to reply. I’m struck silent. “I’ve seen them move your ships over the tactical table as you get ready to pull off a stunt that I think only you could manage. I’ve seen them comfort Tigh, care for Kara, and love Lee. They’ve brough me such joy, pleasuring me unselfishly like few others would. I’ve watched them hold a rifle, ready to defend your people with every fiber of your being.” She’s so unashamed and honest with her words. The fury is bleeding out of me, leaving me cold and tired.

“I think you’re a bit biased,” my lingering self-loathing prompts me to spit.

She snorts. “Really? Neither of us liked each other at first, Bill. Now we’ve learned about each other and liked what we’ve found. You’ve earned what I think about you.”

I can’t refute it. Her touch continues, the palms of her hands running along my arms until she’s at my neck. Then those warm hands are holding my face, the pads of her thumbs tracing over the deep scares there that sometimes taunt me in the mirror. She slips a finger under my chin and forces our gazes back together.

“Don’t go there, Bill. If we judged our past action by the eyes we have now, we’d all be found lacking. You know that. You taught Lee that. No nim-gazing.” Her thumb strokes my cheek.

“You taught Lee that a person must remember and learn from their mistakes.”

I watch her role her eyes, and she makes it look strangely affectionate. “Learn, Bill. Learn. Not self-flagellate alone or with a punching bag. You don’t deserve that.”

“I do…” She cuts me off by laying her fingers across my mouth.

“It’s not up for debate,” she whispers. Leaning in, she kisses me and its soft and sweet against my lips. This night is not following any script I’ve ever seen before in my life. “You’re an exceptional man, Bill Adama. There’s no one I trust more than you. We’ve gotten this far as a Fleet because of you, Bill.”

I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.

“Both of us, Laura.” She hums thoughtfully. Her hands are under my shirt now, moving over my abdomen. It was easy enough since I’m only in the Fleet’s service tanks. Her touch is electric though as her words move something in me. She tugs my shirts over my head, and I let her.

“I’m certainly glad its you by my side. The people in this fleet admire you, rely on you. You’re brave and thoughtful. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” she says. I want to argue with her. I want to push against what she’s saying so that the flawed, fleshed out picture is completed. I know my mistakes. People have told me where I’ve failed. Lee and Carolanne pointed them out on more than one occasion. Instead, I feel a warmth starting to spread through me from her words.

“What about when we fight?” I feel her smile against my skin.

“We’re both strong-willed people with different perspectives. You challenge me to be a better leader.”

She straddles my lap, letting her hands wander over the bare flesh.

“I have a temper.”

“You’re a passionate man,” she teases, giving a little thrust of her hips. There’s a bulge in my pants feeling her lips on my skin and hearing her words of affirmation. I look in Laura’s eyes and realize that she knows my flaws just like I know hers. What can I say?

“Why are you saying all this to me?”

“Because you deserve to hear it. Because I’m proud to know you.”

“I’m proud to know you,” I say.

Laura chuckles. “This is about you tonight. You’re generous and loyal, so let me take care of you” She says, before kissing me again. She says more. There’s part of me jumping at hearing Laura’s view of me. She is the finest woman I know, and there’s something that’s starting to feel almost intoxicating at hearing her praise. She mixes her words in with her foreplay. Lips and fingers play across my skin until I feel like a melted puddle. She nips my ear. “Really, Bill, you know all of their names. That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard!”

Her hands rake through my hair, sending a definite surge of arousal through me. I’ll admit, I’m hard. I’ve got an attractive woman on my lap, telling me that I’ve done alright. It’s a powerful sensation.

“Do you believe what I’m telling you? I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know.” I respond by pulling her in for a kiss while we fall back onto the couch. It’s an awkward position to try and remove clothes from and my hands are sore, so she does most of the work. Her giggles fill the air, and I’m floored that this evening will end in giggle and sex rather than a moody stand-off. Laura really is an incredible woman who hides such a warm heart from the world.

For a moment, she lies atop me naked. Her scent is overwhelming. The smell of Caprican Roses mixed with standard military soap, but there’s also something faint underneath it that’s just the scent of her own body. It smells like home. My erection is pressing against her belly, but we’re happy to simply cuddle for a moment as I feel my world balancing out again. These last few months have been so trying. But Laura is warm and solid in my arms, and her words are genuine and meaningful.

“I want Bill Adama, just the way he is.” I feel a surge of heat, of gratitude, of affection…its overwhelming. The knowledge that there is someone who accepts the way I am is one of best realizations of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because really, the martyr complex between these two is really something.
> 
> Not super smutty, but I only had about 2 hours to write. Definite tooth rotting fluff...


	18. Hand Jobs

Laura shoots me another curious look, and I suppress the grin threatening to break out over my face. There’s an amused light in her eyes, and I know that she knows that the surprise I have is a good one. Even though I’m wearing what I know is a mask of controlled neutrality, Laura sees right past it.

I watch her eyes flicker from me to the harsh, worn Battlestar around us. She hasn’t been down here much and can’t piece together enough clues to guess what I have in mind. With each step, I see her curiosity gnawing at her.

“Bill—”

“We’re almost there,” I tell her before she can try wheedling any information out of me. She could probably coax the truth out of me. Post-traumatic reaction to being shot change me, Cottle had once warned me. No, having Laura in my life changed me. I look to my side where Laura strides beside me, and my stomach gives an excited flip. We come to a stop.

“Close your eyes,” I say. She gives a predictably quizzical look; arched eyebrow, tilted head, and hands coming to rest on her hips. I can’t contain my grin anymore. Moments like this between us are too rare to not enjoy.

“Yes, sir,” she says putting a good dose of sass into her words as usual. My grin widens at quintessential Laura and I hope she never changes. Faults and virtues, I… _like_ her just like this.

Taking her hand I lead her forward. There’s a bounce in my step. This area is deserted because being the gods-forsaken admiral of this rag-tag fugitive fleet occasionally has its perks alongside the endless headaches. I see her mind working as a hatch opens and we step through, but she trusts me to lead her. I position her right where I want her so that she faces the large window on the Observation Deck.

“You’re enjoying this,” Laura teases. Frak yes, I enjoy when I have this incredible woman at my mercy! The anticipation of her reaction to this surprise is killing me right now, and she must be picking up on it.

I stand behind her, adjusting her by holding her shoulders. I can feel how she unconsciously leans back against me. It’s subtle and sweet. Our bodies can’t deny the bond between us.

“Open your eyes, Laura,” I tell her. The second she does I feel the change in her body. How she goes rigid and gasps out loud.

“Oh my gods!” She moves forward and my hands slip from her shoulders. Her fingertips touch the transparent durasteel of the window, and I can see her wide eyes by the faint reflection of her face. A thousand colors shimmer as nebula gases swirl in a chaotic mass. At the center of the cosmic display of splendor hangs the heart of a dying star. Graceful swirls of red and orange, intricate arcs of green and blue; they all burn in a brilliant display in front of our eyes. Its even more raw and breathtaking than the most vibrant Caprican sunset.

She glances behind me and I think there might be tears in her eyes at the sight. She’s awe-struck. I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist, our bodies molding together.

“The radiation from the star’s dying core heats everything around it, causing it to create all the vivid colors,” I say. My words tickle across her neck and she tilts her head to the side. I place a soft kiss on the inviting skin, and she shudders.

“It’s breathtaking, Bill,” Laura says with reverence in her voice. I hum my agreement. There is something unparalleled in the beauty of the natural universe on this cosmic scale. We stare at the display and don’t care about the time that passes.

“Sometimes I wish I could take you on a proper date,” I hear myself saying. I feel her stiffen. Not much. But enough.

“But what would our troublesome Fleet say?”

I huff. _We have responsibilities._ My own damned words.

Our eyes meet in the reflection off the glass-like barrier. That unnamed feeling pulses between us again. It’s begging us to let go and let ourselves drown in it. She smiles at my reflection.

“If this was a date, it would be the best one I’ve ever been on,” she admits in a small, quiet voice. I can tell it wasn’t an easy admission for her. She’s got a wall around her heart.

“’Cause of the view?” I tease.

She looks at the cosmic display of wonder and then looks at us entwined in an embrace. “Yes.”

My heart skips a beat. I do wish I could take her on a proper date, to the opera on Caprica or a used bookstore on Libron. Instead of letting the sad thoughts ruin the mood, my hands wander over her stomach. She’s warm and solid under my palms and her back arches in pleasure. I marvel at how responsive she always is to me. We stand there, admiring the view as I caress her skin over her clothes. Yes, the vision is beautiful but having Laura in my arms is better.

A ghost of a touch over her breasts is all I do. Sex on the Observation Deck wasn’t on the agenda, but seeing Laura bathed in the light of the cosmos is irresistible. She turns her head toward me so we can share a deeper kiss as her arms reach behind her to tangle in my hair and grab my ass. Its enough encouragement that my hands inside her blouse and my thumbs stroke the soft skin her breasts.

I know I’ve seen real beauty when I witness Laura arching against me in pleasure under the light of nebulas and stars. I always feel a thrill when I touch her bare skin, and I can’t get enough of my own cosmic beauty her in my arms. Laura has changed me, I’m not ashamed to think like this. I’m a stoic military commander and I’m a damn sensual romantic.

I’m not so changed by Laura that I’m willing to strip her here and lay her on the floor like I want; its too public. As much as I’d love to see the lights of the universe play against her pale skin, to dance in her red hair, sensibility must have a say. She’s still glorious clothed, so I leave her dressed and trail a hand down past her waistband, cupping her through her trousers. Her hand tightens in my hair and I can feel the heat through her pants. I love knowing I have this effect on her.

I do want to see her face in orgasm against the sight beyond the transparent durasteel. I rub her through the material of her pants, wondering if this might be enough for the wonderfully responsive woman in my arms. I know where her most sensitive parts are. I circle her and press against her, carefully responding to her whimpers. One hand continues to rub and tweak her breasts as I work. My lips work on her neck and I can feel her pulse jumping.

“Gods, Bill. What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the view. Relax, Laura.”

She groans and unconsciously spreads her legs just a little more. I continue to rub and stimulate her, but I want to see her pleasure peak. Looking for a way to give her more, I switch to gently raking my fingernails over the area. Laura gasps and her grip on me tightens. In the reflection I see her mouth parted, cheeks flushed, and hair disheveled. It’s heavenly.

Looking at the nebula gasses and the dying star, I hold her to me and pleasure her body. She writhes under my hands and lips while looking at the masterpiece the universe has given us. Her climax erupts over her face, and she’s a vision of euphoria. It’s a sight I’ll remember for the rest of my days.

I bring her down gently, holding her in my arms as her breathing slows. We kiss, and I accept that I’ll never be free of this incredible woman. The universe brought us together and there’s nothing that can pull us apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wonderful commenter Dena suggested something on the Observation Deck. What a wonderful idea! I hope you like :) 
> 
> Prompt was hand jobs! I liked the non-typical scenario this turned into even if I feel like I ate a spoonful of sugar. 
> 
> Comments, love, constructive feedback, hearts, ideas, and etc. is all wonderful. I get a happy feeling when I see them.


	19. Hair Pulling

Laura had inherited her mother’s hair. A gorgeous auburn color, fiery as a sunset. It cascaded down her back in thick waves that made many a finger twitch with a desire to tangle in its silken length. She’d gotten used to the looks she got from both men and women alike, but it she appreciate the glances she received from Bill Adama. Secretly, she reveled in his looks and enjoyed feeling beautiful and desirable.

She almost always let her hair flow freely. It was her one great vanity. Years ago, before the Fall, Adar’s PR goons suggested she dye her locks into a more subdued hue and adopt a more matronly style. She’d come to Galactica wearing that style. But now she’d been freed. Released from Adar’s domineering tendencies, and his stupid assistants, she let her hair flow loose, red, and wild. It served as a sign that she’d come into her own.

Bill thought her fierce red tresses suited her. He liked the unpredictability; one day she’d have styled curls and the next he’d be treated to an untamed mass. He loved her tousled waves the most, especially when he was the cause of it. He’d never admit to it, but there were times he mussed it just a bit more than necessary. She’d look like a wild and untamable goddess from legend. Bill almost never voiced his appreciation, but he wished such words came easier to him.

She knew. She watched how his eyes followed the curls that fell over her shoulders. A lock of hair falling between her cleavage was one of the few things in the galaxy that was enough to derail his concentration entirely. The intensity in his gaze always made Laura feel hot from her fingers to her toes. The burning desire in his gaze made her feel more sensual, beautiful, and wanted than ever before in her life.

He often treated her body like it was the most treasured thing in the world to him. Even when they played rough, there was an underlying care in each one of his actions. Most of the time, he caressed her skin with infinite devotion and tenderness. He kissed her like she was precious to him. And he threaded his fingers into her hair like he wanted to hold on and never let go. Laura always melted against him when he did this. It tingled from her scalp, all the way down her spine, until heat pooled in her center.

Sometimes, he’d just comb his hands through her hair with a look of euphoria on his face. Other encounters, he’d grab a handful of locks and the pleasure/pain would shoot through Laura like lightning, promising her an explosive climax. Then there were the quiet moments, when they’d be reading reports on the couch and his hand would come up to toy with a curl or massage her scalp. The little touches were all it took to make her knees week.

The sight of her tousled russet hair spread out over his pillow thrilled Bill. Nothing could ever compare to how Laura looked on his pillow after sex with messy, glorious, red hair fanned out around her pale shoulders while her cheeks flushed red. She’d smile up at him with such a look of happiness, that his heart overflowed with gratitude at being allowed to stand by this woman. He’d sink a hand back through those locks and pull her to him and hold her close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so damn sappy.  
> Am I still getting the characters right?


	20. Shower Sex

The hot water coursed over her shoulders, heating the slopes of her breasts, and the curve of her hips. The scalding water reddened her skin, and Laura tipped her head back, groaning under the onslaught. She’d always enjoyed hot showers, but tonight she set the temperature to burn against her skin. For a moment, it washed away the disgusting feeling diloxin gave her and seared away the bitterness of Baltar’s ‘not guilty’ verdict. It couldn’t quite help the headache that was Kara’s return.

What a frakking mess.

Leaning back against the wall of the military shower, she let the pain and grief rage inside her. Billowing steam filled the air while the droplets stung her head as she leaned back against the wall. If she listened closely, she could heart he mechanical clanking of Galactica. She wiped her hands over her face, clearing away the water. Or were those her tears? She tasted salt.

She stayed that way for a gods only knows how long, shivering in the boiling hot shower. She wanted to be Laura in the red dress again; the care-free, sassy woman Bill had loved. Laura in Red thought they had time, and that one day they’d find the courage to be fully together out in the open. _We’ll only be free of our responsibilities when reach Earth, but when we reach Earth I’ll die,_ Laura thought. Grief rose in her chest. _And Bill hasn’t touched me in weeks-I’m not his woman in red anymore but darkness and death_. The heated water cascading down her at least soothed some of the pain of the last few weeks.

She heard the pad of his footfalls enter the head, and Laura sighed. Moving in with Bill, _temporarily_ moving in, was an adjustment. She’d always lived mostly alone. Sharing a space with someone when she was feeling testy, vulnerable, and hurt after the cancer’s return and Baltar’s acquittal was an exercise in patience and endurance. It was easier to squabble when living together, and their latest fight turned nasty. Her instinct was to back away, but there was nowhere to go.

She knew he was right outside the shower, but she refused to move or speak. The profile of his big, bulky frame hesitated on the other side of the curtain. Without warning, the man began to shuck his clothing. Laura heard the clatter of his dog-tags hitting a pile of clothes before his familiar hand pulled the barrier between them to the side. Laura watched as Bill stepped inside, too irritated with him and too tired with everything else to even appreciate the novelty of sharing a shower for the first time with someone.

His troubled blue eyes swept over her where she sagged against the shower wall. Her tangled emotions were on display; need and hate, want and despair, tiredness and endurance all warred within her.

“Are you alright, Laura? You’ve been in here awhile,” he asked awkwardly.

“Just dying. Other than that, I’m alright. Like usual.”

“Laura-”

“What do you want now, Bill?” she asked. Bill flinched at the coldness in her tone, a contradiction to the punishing heat of the shower.

“To take care of my family,” he said, and she bit back the sarcastic comment about not being his wife. His eyes held too much regret and hope for her to lash out. Reaching out, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away from the wall. She stiffened for a moment but relaxed under Bill’s gentle pressure on the small of her back encouraging her to lean against him fully. Why were they always dancing back and forth from each other? There was the distance after New Caprica, his speech at the dance, talking about responsibilities, and the fight in his quarters. _And now he was talking about family?_

Of course they were family. She let her arms slide around his back and she absorbed the steadiness of him; the rise in his breathing, the comfort of his warm skin, and the solidness of his shoulder beneath her cheek as she rested against him. They fit well together. They loved each other, even if these dark moments weren’t the time to overcome how bitter, angry, and stubborn they were and admit it. Naked and pressed together under a shower, sadness combines with strength and they start finding a balance again. 

Bill reached around and grabbed the shampoo from its spot beside them. Squeezing out a bit, he started lathering it through her hair, massaging her scalp gently. One hand pushed and rolled into her neck muscles, massaging and soothing. Laura had never wanted to share the shower before; it was her time. Bill was redefining what she liked once more, as she found herself enjoying this new intimacy. So few people had ever tried to take care of her in life and in her fascination with this side of him and them, she allowed him to continue. She sighed as her body responded to his caretaking, tightening in places, unwinding in others.

The water poured down her back as he rinsed the shampoo from her hair, his fingers chasing the soap bubbles down her back. They both ignored the strands of hair that fell free. She focused on just the sensation of him touching her skin and the heated raindrops of the shower pouring down around them. Everything felt so far away when they were like this.

His fingers stilled, and she pulled back to look his face. He looked different with salt and pepper hair wetted down to his forehead, and she ran a hand through the strands. There was so much care and tenderness in his gaze. Their foreheads come to rest together, her heart beating faster at the consideration he was showing her. She usually avoided thinking about what his care meant, and now they’ve jumped to being family.

“It’ll be alright, Laura,” he said, his voice a husky whisper. Laura shivered and closed her eyes. _Doesn’t he know what’s coming?_

He reached around her and grabbed the body soap, using his hands work it to a lather over her skin. She moaned, a little ashamed from how easy it was for him to coax her into feeling better. He started at her shoulders, massaging gently at the knots that hardened her muscles until she was soft at plaint under his fingers. He worked his way down her back, massaging and washing. The tension seeped from her body. It was amazing what this man’s care and attention did for her.

He turned her in his arms, washing and teasing up her belly, up the center of her breasts, and over her collarbones. Finally, his large hands moved over her breasts, circling and lifting them slightly in a gentle caress, mindful to give her nothing but pleasure. Her skin was slippery and red from the shower, and he teased her nipples until they were flushed to an even deeper purple-red. Before his hands lingered there long enough that their thoughts can turn morbid, he moved on and traced over the flare of her hips and down her legs. Laura admitted that the sight of her powerful admiral kneeling down to pick up a leg and his hands washing and kneading her thigh and calf muscles was strange and erotic all at once.

Feeling dizzy from the lingering effect of doloxin, she placed one her hand on his shoulder to steady herself as he worked. Her other hand twined in his wet hair as he trailed his lips across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh and up over her stomach before he rested his head against her slick belly. It felt electric. Her body surged with surprising sensuality and raw desire.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at her.

“Me too.”

“What can I do?” Bill asked.

“I don’t want to think, Bill. Don’t let me think anymore, right now,” she said, her soft voice begging him. He nodded. In his eyes and touch she felt the warmth of his devotion battling the nausea that seemed constant.

“I can do that,” he said, deep voice like gravel. He rose to stand behind her again, moving those soft lips across her jaw and down her throat. When he was kissing her, when his hands were on her skin, when her arousal tightened between her legs then she felt alive and happy. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but she needed to feel safe, cared for, and loved for at least a few moments.

“I’ll always look after you,” he promised.

Bill Adama and his big promises. Gods she wanted to believe this one.

He pulled her back against his chest as he moved them closer to the water rushing out from the shower head. The cascade poured down on her, rinsing the soap bubbles from her skin. Bill slid his hands gently, reverently, over her hot, slick body toward the apex of her thighs. He brushed a finger against her, sending a jolt of arousal through her. _Yes!_ She closed her eyes and pushed back against his hardness that was now nestled against her back. He was more than happy to help her forget for a bit.

His finger pushed, opening her up to him and he gathered her moisture, moving up to circle her clit gently as her head fell back against his shoulder. Soon her sex was pulsing and swollen as his fingers built up her arousal. She cried out when two fingers slide inside her. Her hips buck against him, needing more.

“Harder, Bill,” she pleaded. _Make me forget._

“Patience, I’m planning on frakking you into next week,” he growled, biting her shoulder gently and warning her to be patient. A needy whine came from her throat, and, without warning, he thrust a third finger into her, spreading her relentlessly to the girth she craved. She cried out in delight. His approach was fierce, pushing in and out with greater force each time and sending shockwaves through her body. Her legs shook as he her inner muscles clenched around his fingers, her desire spiraling out of control.

Molten heat pooled low in her belly as his fingers curled inside her, pulling more pleasure from her body. She writhed as he finger-frakked her hard and fast, each thrust stripping away the president, the politician, the prophet, the witness, the woman in red, and the teacher until only Laura remained. Bill threw himself in giving his Laura what she needed, what they both needed, without shame. Their bodies tingled with the need to come, and he dragged her over the edge with a hard thrust deep in her. She screamed his name as her hips jerked violently.

He eased her down from her high, removing two of his fingers as he treated her tenderly.

“Gods, you’re incredible, Bill,” she murmured, and he could hear the smile in her voice. He flushed and smirked, thoroughly pleased with himself. He privately admitted that his male pride would never get tired of hearing her scream his name like that. He’d missed hearing it over the last few weeks when he’d let distance creep up between them.

“Not done with you yet, Roslin,” he said. He’d been given a mission; _don’t let me think._ He’d promised to frak her into next week; for tonight, Bill wasn’t letting Laura focus on anything other than the fluttering feeling between her legs.

One hand snuck down to spread her folds apart, opening her up to him. She whimpered at the sensation of the hot air from the shower against her center. She felt too tired from her first orgasm to protest and too curious about what the tactical mastermind behind her had in mind. 

The shower stopped spraying all around them, and she watched him pick up the shower head. He chuckled at the slight hitch of her breath as a shiver ran through her whole body. He turned down the heat and put it on a higher power setting before brining it between her legs. Laura let out a keening wail as the warm spray hit her directly sensitive flesh, surprised by the intensity of it. The hot water felt wonderful as the stream of water put a constant warm pressure against her bundle of nerves.

Never having done this before, Bill picked up the queues from her body expertly. He pulled the showerhead closer, making Laura feel like she was being treated to a vibrator turned up to max then he pulled it back, letting it massage her more gently. The new sensations against her core and on her bundle of nerves had her hurtling towards an orgasm. The explosion behind her eyelids happened so fast she could do nothing but brace herself against the shower wall and helplessly twist and jerk as he determinedly held her open.

Just when she thought her aftershocks were over, he moved the stream even closer to hit her more forcefully, and her whole body shook with the intensity of the sensations washing through her. She barely had a moment to scream before she was once again swept up into another toe-curling orgasm. Over and over, he drew orgasm after orgasm from her; so many she lost count as it felt like it became a single, continuous climax. His beautiful, rough voice spoke against her ear in soothing tones with loving words that assured her how things would be alright. She moaned. Her world was too narrowed down; all sensation, everything in her life at that moment, narrowed down to the intense sensations he was causing in her body and his promises.

He maneuvered his thigh between hers, spreading her over the water even more. The hand that had been opening her up to his onslaught moved to wrap around her waist, grounding her to him. The stream setting switched to a pulsing massage and the difference shocked her system. It was too much. She felt too sensitive. It was almost painful as the water roared over her swollen clit. Her body shuddered against him, muscles tensing until her body felt on fire. She screamed as she came again. It was incredible.

Bill didn’t let her come down from her orgasm, but nudged thighs open even more and placed himself against her opening. The spray of the water still on her clit, Laura arched back into Bill, effectively pushing herself onto his erection, his weeping head easily into her willing body. Bill grunted when he felt himself slide home and relished the warmth of Laura’s tight heat surrounding him. He was rock hard and wouldn’t last long, but from how Laura pushed against him and whimpered he didn’t think her over sensitized body would need much to reach another peak.

Laura kept herself steady against the shower wall, and they had enough leverage to find a rhythm against each other. Bill thrust into her while keeping the showerhead pointed at her center. The hard slap of his balls against her wet skin filled the air as he drove home, over and over.

“Not sure I can,” she moaned, her voice breathless and almost dreamy at how good she felt. Her body tingled with the aftereffects from her previous orgasms.

“You will,” he swore. Pounding into her with abandon, he held the showerhead closer to her, so it rained incessantly against her. He trembled against her backside, feeling the vibrations from the showerhead through her body and his thrusts turned even faster and harder. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip, eliciting a ragged gasp in response and a fresh wave of fluid against his cock. He marveled at the effect he had on this incredible woman who was swept away in euphoria, coming apart in his arms. Together, they were astonishing. He held off until her muscles gripped him as she careens over the edge for a final time. He dropped the shower head as he gripped both of her hips, his body tightening as he came inside her with a deep thrust.

For a moment there was just them and nothing else. Slowing breaths; shuddering, overwrought muscles; his hands carefully stroking her cooling skin. And the water dripping all around them. He only moved when he finally slipped from her, turning the shower off.

She let him gently guide her out, and she willed herself to hold onto these feelings of contentment. She leaned into him as he toweled them dry, too spent to focus on more than staying upright.

She gasped in tired surprise when he gathered her up, cradling her in his arms. She couldn’t even bring herself to care that she was laying boneless in his arms and instead rested her head down against his shoulder as he carried her out of the head and into the cool air of his quarters.

He gently laid her down on the rack, the mattress dipping more as he joined her. He fit his body around hers as he pulled her back against him.

“Thank you, Bill,” she hummed, burying herself further into his arms, reveling in the quietness of her mind.

“Anything for you, you know that,” he said with deep conviction

Whether it was the lingering euphoria in her system or the force of his, she allowed herself look at him, really look at him, study his features, try to see beneath his composure. He’s not good at hiding the love he feels, and she pressed a loving, almost chaste feeling to his lips in response.

“Because we’re family? You really think of me as family?” 

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Virtual chocolate chip cookies to everyone who's stuck with me through October.   
> Here's an extra spicy chapter.   
> Extra virtual chocolate chip cookies to commenters :)


	21. Pegging

Laura looks furious. I’m sitting on the couch, drinking chief’s rotgut, and watching her storm back and forth over the red carpets of my quarters. Even I’m wary of the fire dancing in her eyes. Her heels are kicked off to gods only know where, and I’ll likely find them by tripping over them sometime tonight. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s generous in her use of expletives. She’s fascinating like this. I know she endured a long meeting of the Quorum today, and I have little doubt that she remained poised and graceful during the ordeal.

My ears perk up as she proceeds to rant about Zarek. He subtly propositioned her and tried to take over her Quorum meeting. My fists clench, and I remind myself that military dictatorships following the summary execution of the vice president and kidnapping of the president are considered _very_ bad.

She calls him a plethora of names, and I silently cheer her on by nodding appropriately. I’m impressed when she calls him a sanctimonious, misogynistic, and pathetic male who can frak right off. There’s something about a woman who can insult someone with both five-syllable words and profanity in one sentence. She’s like me; a study in contradictions.

“-and their fantasies about bending me over a desk, shoving it in, and showing me whose boss! You know, it would be far more effective if _I_ bent _them_ over the damn desk with a strap-on.” I choke on my drink at her unconventional idea of putting the men who cross her in place. She’s got a wildly provocative side. I hope my olive toned skin hides my blush because I had the same fantasy about her in our early days.

Gods we clashed. _Miss_ Roslin, I’d called instead and not Madame President (I hadn’t even used her doctorate title). I wonder if I’d have shown the same lack of respect toward Adar if he’d survived. I cringe when I realize my answer. _It’s because she was a schoolteacher, and not because she’s a woman._ Even our space-faring society has moments when a powerful woman sparks pushback and even fear. Laura is both beautiful and powerful with an impressive strength of will; she’s pragmatic and can be even more ruthless than me. I’m not surprised that she knows how people fantasize about dominating her.

I feel my face still creasing in a frown as I swirl the clear liquid around in my glass. Laura is a fantastic lover. We have such similar hungers and a willingness to experiment with a delight in being together. She’s always proven to be interested in my pleasure with little selfishness, and I’m glad to reciprocate. We’ve played with dominance, both of us taking on the submissive or dominant roles when we feel compelled to.

I’ve bent Laura over her desk. And my desk. Several times.

“Bill? What’s wrong?” She asks in her rich, velvety voice. She’s looking at me with concern. “You’re not worried I would actually try it are you?”

“No,” I say. She’s too loyal to even consider sleeping with anyone else when already marginally committed to someone. I know that’s why she never dated when sleeping with Adar.

“What is it?” she probs.

“You let me…you know,” I say. _So frakkin’ eloquent old man,_ I mentally admonish. Laura grins in her deliciously naughty way.

“I have my own fantasies, Bill. What we do is based on…” she catches herself from saying love, _“…._ consent and respect. We both enjoyed when you _bent me over my desk and frakked me senseless_.”

She’s blunt. At her words, an idea hits me, and I’m not sure I want to voice it. It’s an old fantasy, now taking on a new shape. Many nights we simply frak or cuddle, but Laura's been into playing more. I know she's mindful of her now limited time, but I'm not ready to face such thoughts. We're running out of opportunities. I take a swallow of rotgut, and the burn of it down my throat centers me.

“I wonder if you’d enjoy doing it to me,” I say, reclining on the couch a bit more and acting as nonchalant as possible.

“Do you want me to peg you while bending you over a desk?” Laura asks, and I nearly choke on my drink again. Oh yes, men can still be afraid of powerful, _frank_ , women. The idea of being pegged is potent. I’ve always been curious about what it would feel like, but Carolanne laughed and adamantly refused to try it when I tentatively suggested it. She told me to go find Saul if I wanted a cock in my backdoor. As usual, there’s no judgement in Laura’s eyes, but I do notice excitement. She really is in the mood to bend someone over a desk.

A bundle of nervous energy rolls in my stomach, sending a wave of heat through me. I feel myself stirring under the layers of fabric. My beautiful, powerful Laura, my tough as nails president, taking me like that is quite a heady vision. I still have trouble voicing my fantasies to a woman with whom I’m in an…arrangement; what we have is nothing like the one nights I had with too-willing girls I picked up on shore leaves. The tension between hotshot viper pilot bad boy and the respectable, stoic, and controlled admiral I’ve become is always there.

“I’ve thought about trying it,” I say.

Laura tilts her head to the side. “The idea really turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Laura,” I groan as she approaches me, lithe and graceful, some of her earlier frustration petering out as she’s distracted by this new idea. I take a casual sip of my drink and meet her eyes. “Might be one way to work out some of your tension.”

“Far more enjoyable than this pacing,” she agrees, blatantly looking down at my lap and seeing the bulge there. “You really want this.”

I nod. The tension between us is thick, and I’m aware of every breath I take and every beat of my heart. She reaches out with her hand and caresses my face before kissing me gently. When she pulls back, her face has hardened. She plucks the glass out of my hands.

“Take your uniform off and go stand by your desk,” she orders.

_Oh shit._

She’s already up and moving to where the box of toys is hidden, a saucy sway to her hips. One of the ships in the Fleet opened a sex toy shop long ago, and they sent Laura a pretty thorough selection as a gag gift after she’d told the pearl-clutching Gemenese to mind their own business. They used what materials the fleet had on hand; now we have a bullet vibrator that’s encased in an actual bullet shell. She starts pulling her own clothes off, and I realize I’d better do as she asks. The lady’s in charge tonight.

I shuck my clothes, methodically putting them down in such a way that they won’t wrinkle. I’m an old man of habit. I can’t resist giving my erection gentle strokes that’s just enough to send a shiver down my spine. My hands are shaking from want and nervous anticipation. I suppress a dry chuckle at the thought of how easily I can keep a steady hand when holding a gun.

She returns with a handful of items, setting them on the chair by my desk. Shameless in her longing, she wraps her arms around me and presses close. She’s warm and soft in my arms, smelling like Caprican roses and Laura. Her hands are moving, tracing along the muscles she finds and leaving the skin tingling where she’s touched. Soon my whole body is thrumming.

We double check with each other, ensuring that this is what we both want as we do every time venturing into something new. She reaches up and pulls me into a frenzied kiss. I can’t get enough of her soft, warm lips pressed against my mouth. I pull her to me, wanting more of her sweetness and warmth but she pulls away. It’s powerful to feel both lust and affection rushing through my veins.

“Bend over your desk,” she orders, steely authority in her tone. Her hand on my back pushes me down a little further until I have to grab the edge of my desk. “You keep your hands right there. There will be no military interference.”

 _Whose fantasy are we in?_ I can’t help but wonder. The way she kisses, scratches, and purrs with pleasure along my spine, one would think it’s solely hers. She’s feral and fierce, and I feel like I’m living out my wildest dreams.

“I think I like you like this, Bill,” she teases. She’s rougher than usual as she enjoys a man under her power, and in the glimpse that I catch of her when I turn my head, I know she’s working out some of her tension from the day. “I like you being the one bent over the desk.”

"It's good." I can’t get any harder, but my whole body throbs at her words. This really is quite the helpless position. It's clear whose in control here, which is why this is such a fantasy so many people have with Laura. My hearts twinges in sympathy. The shift in energy and power dynamics alone feels is intense. She’s the only one I could ever trust to be in such a vulnerable position with, and I know her trust in me must be pretty absolute as well.

“Let’s get you ready,” Laura says. I’m damn hard. Rock hard. I blush and suck in a breath when I feel cold lube against my skin, but it turns into a needy groan when Laura carefully pushes one finger inside. She’s slow, taking the time to work me open and is generous with lube. My fingers dig into the wood of my desk as pleasure shoots through me when she crooks her finger and hits my prostate.

“That feels good,” I growl.

The crack of her hand against my ass fills the air and I jump. “That feels good…”

 _Oh she’s into this play right now._ “That feels good, Madame President.”

“Good,” she rewards me with another finger. _Who the hell is this woman?_ She eases it in so there’s no pain, just pleasure prickling through my entire nervous system. She moves in and out as she speaks, “I’m sick of people forgetting that I earned my position. I’ve spent decades in politics, was responsible for the education of billions of colonial citizens, and I have kept my people alive through a damn apocalypse. I’ve earned some respect.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I groan. _I’m the luckiest man alive,_ I think. _This woman chooses to be mine whether we vocalize that fact or not._ I feel my knees getting weak as I hold still while Laura works her damn, wonderful magic in me for I have no idea how long. Oh, she’s careful not to work me up too much, but I’m at her mercy, and it turns me on.

The tender kiss against my shoulder catches my attention. I turn and see my lover’s eyes gazing at me with open affection. Checking in. Of course she would. I grin. We communicate in our wordless way that everything is alright, and she places another kiss on my shoulder.

“I’ve got a plug here to keep you open while I get ready. If you want,” Laura says. I nod, having a bit of experience here from my younger days so its not an intimidating idea. I can’t see from where I’m bent over the desk, but I hiss and moan as she presses the small toy against my hole. I manage to take it, and she bestows another kiss as a reward. It feels amazing to be stretched and filled like this, and I hope this is at least a fraction of what Laura feels when I’m inside her. There's still nothing that can compare to the intimacy, feeling, and connectedness of being inside my woman.

I hear her getting the strap-on in place. I’m too aroused and desperate to feel truly nervous anymore. I want this woman in me, so I can find release. I turn my head, and see the harnessed dildo bobbing in front of her. She’s like some wanton, lustful goddess. The silicon glistened in the light, and I know she’s lubed it well. She eases the plug out.

She spreads me wide, and eases in. My breathing is shallow, and I feel like I’m on the edge of the knife as I wait for her to push all the way inside. She teases me, pushing in a little further each time and altering just how hard she thrusts in. I feel each thrust throughout my whole body. Precum is leaking from me and she hasn’t even started to pound into me. She’s overwhelming my senses, and I’m glad that it her and only her I share this with. I can yield control to her and feel safe. Only her.

“You like being under me like this and at my mercy,” she says, and words pour from her mouth as she relishes the power she has in such a position. I know control is as powerful as any drug. “Tell me what you want.”

“Frak me,” I say, my eyes unfocused as I lean heavily against my desk from the sensations that she pulls from me. “Frak me.”

She chuckles. “You’re sexy like this Bill Adama.” I’m not if the tingling shudder that travels through me is from the rich texture from her voice or from her pushing all the way inside me. With a solid grip on my hips, she began increasing her thrusts into my body. Convinced she’s not hurting me, Laura pounds harder. I feel each thrust like an electric current through my body. A sheen of sweat is covering us both as she fraks me. She’s energetic and all-consuming as she works, burning off her tension and irritation. I'm fully under her control and she takes me hard. It’s intoxicating.

“Laura…Madame Pre….” I can barely speak.

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

I immediately stroke my cock, and it doesn’t take more than a few jerks to come hard into my hand as she presses that spot inside me. Pulsing thrills ebb and flow from me as I come down from such a high.

Laura brushes my hair back from my forehead, leaning over to kiss me gently.

“Are you okay?” Laura asks, infinite concern and tenderness in her voice. I chuckle. From fierce president to sweet lover, she switches back and forth so easily. She looks fare more peaceful now with only her concern marring her face.

“Better than okay, Laura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be 31 chapters!   
> A hard chapter to write. The power dynamics are my favorite bit; Laura is such a strong female character and the show let her take on many traits more traditionally seen in male leads (ie. she's pragmatic, harsh, and ruthless when needed). I can't help but wonder about the different reaction her character would have gotten if she'd been male.  
> Positive reinforcement would be much loved.


	22. Threesome

At being allowed entrance, Saul Tigh stepped into the CO’s quarters. The usual soothing smell of leather filled his nose as he glanced around the room looking for the old man. A patch of warm colored lamplight spilled over the ornate rugs and created a path that beckoned him further into the room.

Saul strode forward, wondering what he’d been summoned for at this hour of night. Not that he was doing much other than drowning his sorrows in iffy tasting rotgut and staring off into space with one eye. Playing ‘now I see it now I don’t’ with his one good eye got old after the first hour. He needed distraction, and Bill’s voice had sounded too casual for this to be business. In fact, the deeper than usual rasp and sense of urgency prompted Saul to hurry over, and he wondered what the President had done this time to piss off the old man. Saul assumed he and Bill would probably end up drinking and bitching like the two old warhorses they were.

The further into the quarters Saul moved, the clearer he realized it became that his assumptions were wrong _. _ When he saw the two people at the desk, he wondered if his one good eye was acting up on him. He blinked and checked his vision with a quick round of ‘am I really seeing this’. Saul then blinked again, peering through the dimmed light at the waiting couple.

Beside the desk, President Roslin sat on her knees with her head bowed. Her russet hair was a mussed mass of wild curls with the amber light of Bill’s quarters lighting up her fiery tresses. Saul’s eyes followed the russet river as it cascaded over her shoulders until the silky strands stopped at the tips of her nipples.  _ Gods be damned, _ Saul thought as he watched a well formed curl perfectly frame a pink peak. She was completely bared to his gaze. She breathed heavily while her pale skin gleamed like ivory, and Saul devoured the sight of a naked woman. It had been too long, and this was Laura frakkin’ Roslin with every sign of rank and authority stripped away. She didn’t even move when his eyes fell on the patch of red curls between at the apex of her thighs.

“She’s not going to say anything.”

Saul turned his wide eye to his smug looking best friend. He was still in uniform and whose hands were clasped calmly on the desk. He looked composed. Hell, his damn glasses were still on. Saul took in his casual posture before looking back at Roslin. “Why not?” Saul asked. His head spun as the musky smell of sex swirled with the leather back here.  _ They were frakking! Smug-ass lucky bastard. She’s a hot piece of-  _

_ What the hell?  _

_ She’s the President. He’s the Admiral. Why the frak didn’t I know he was with Roslin. _

“Because I’m in command.”

Never let it be said there was not a chivalrous side to Colonel Saul Tigh; his gaze swept over Roslin and then turned to his best friend with narrowed eyes. “Is she alright?”

Saul might have heard a chuckle from Roslin who kept her gaze on the floor in front of her. Bill nodded, a more reassuring smile briefly filtering across his face. “She’s alright. We’ve talked about this. But the real question is if you’d like to join us XO.”

The bulge in Saul’s pants could have been answer enough, but it was clear Bill wanted to hear him say it.

“Frak yea,” Saul said. Bill nodded and rose from his desk, stepping around in slow, deliberate steps before touching Roslin on the head. She looked up, and they shared a silent communication with Bill raising an eyebrow and Rosin giving an almost imperceptible nod of the head. Saul gaped at them, marveling at the naturalness of their chemistry. He realized how well they balanced each other out, and the clear respect underlying their relationship. On display before him, it was awesome in its power.

“Let me make one thing clear, Saul. She’s the most precious person in this Fleet. We all need her. But she’s the most beloved person to me. I’d do anything for her. Tonight is about her as much as it is about us,” Bill said, tangling his hand in Roslin’s red hair and yanking her head back. Saul heard the love in his friend’s tone despite the rough treatment. He also caught the warning; if Roslin got hurt somehow, there would be hell to pay.

“Yes, sir,” Saul said, desire clouding his voice. Gods he was hot and bothered by the sight of this particular woman on her knees with her pale neck bared to the world as Bill held with a hand in her hair.

“Get him ready while I step away,” Bill ordered his lover.

Saul swallowed hard, thoroughly content to be on the menu for tonight. As Bill walked away, Roslin looked at him and grinned, seeing the blatant desire in Saul’s eyes. 

Shuffling toward him, Roslin reached a hand up and stroked him through the wool of his uniform pants. Nerves tingling, Saul’s lips parted as waves of pleasure instantly began washing over him. With clearly practiced hands, she had his pants open and down before wrapping her fingers around his raging hard-on. She moved over his shaft up and down, creating delicious friction. With each move, Saul heard his heart beating in his ears. 

When she bent down and took him into her mouth and all rational thought fled. Sweet Lords of Kobol his cock encased in a warm haven felt amazing. It had been forever since anyone had done this to him and the not-so-naïve little schoolteacher was a master. She swirled her tongue around the tip of his dick and scraped her teeth along the bottom of his aching shaft. 

“Enough,” Bill said, and Saul nearly decked his best friend. Roslin pulled back obediently and Saul kicked away his pants in frustration before yanking the rest of his clothes off too. Naked as well, Bill stepped back into view and helped Laura to her feet. Saul watched as the bronze hands of his CO cupped and kneaded the ivory breasts and rosy nipples. Age meant nothing; the couple before Saul was like a work of art as they moved in complete attunement to each other. They elicited more erotic feelings from Saul who wanted in on the action. His cock jutted out, begging for more stimulation. 

Bill attended to Roslin from behind, leaving her open for the taking from the front. Spellbound, Sault stepped forward and tangled his hands in that luscious hair and kissed her soundly. Fisting her hair tighter until she moaned, he shoved a tongue inside and tasted this irritating, wonderful President.  _ Very  _ nice, he thought as she whimpered. He heard the sound of kisses against her neck and felt Bill’s hands brush against his own chest as he continued to play with her breasts.

“Make sure she’s ready,” Bill ordered.

“Aye,” Saul said, briefly pulling away from Roslin’s reddened and thoroughly kissed lips. Grinning at the lust on her face, Saul’s hands pushed Roslin’s legs apart. She twined her arms backward and around Bill to keep herself steady as Saul traced one finger traced along the outer edge of her folds. He'd chuckled and grinned at feeling her wetness. 

Hearing her breathing deepen the closer Saul came to her center, he pressed two fingers together and sank into her heat without warning. The cry from her throat was exquisite. While the look of rapture on the pretty and polished politicians faced was good, Saul was drawn to the sight of his hand disappearing into her pussy again and again.

“I want to taste her,” Saul growled, glancing behind her shoulder at the man in charge who nodded. Placing his hands on her hips, Bill guided Roslin over to the couch and sat her on his lap. At the gentle tugging, Roslin laid back against the old man’s chest and spread her legs. Saul was treated to the image of Roslin looking like she was an offering from the gods to him. Kneeling between them, he pushed her knees even further apart and feasted on the sight of the juncture between her legs. Her juices caused her to glisten in the dimmed light from the CO’s quarters.

Saul trailed his lips slowly up her inner thigh, nibbling the soft skin and blowing air on her sensitive flesh. He wanted to tease her. He wanted to see the polished politician fall apart. A shiver of delight moved through Roslin as he blew, her muscles tensing with expectation, Saul glanced at her face, seeing how her eyes had gained a heated glimmer. 

“Keep going,” Bill ordered. Ever the dutiful XO, and encouraged by Roslin’s own response, Saul parted her folds and touched her with his tongue. She arched upward only to be held back down by Bill. Her gasps and moans filled the air as Bill held her firmly in place while Saul toyed with her using his tongue.  _ Not so refined now, but sexier than ever,  _ Saul thought as he happily used his tongue to torment Roslin.

As her breathing became ragged, he sucked her clit with intensifying pulses and flicked his tongue faster over the nerves. Plunging his fingers back into her, her moans grew louder, her head dropping back in rapture against Bill’s shoulder. Saul glanced up and saw Bill bite her neck, marking her pale skin. The old man followed it up with open-mouthed kisses while still holding her in place as Saul curled and uncurled his fingers, pulling out and pushing back in. Her climax came fast and violent, ripping through her with uncontrollable spasms as both men held her in place.

As she came down from her climax, the men maneuvered so Roslin was draped over Bill’s chest as he laid down on the couch. The men shared a look, silently communicating about where this was going. The couple shared a kiss while Roslin was positioned correctly to sink onto Bill, sheathing him and filling herself. Her head fell onto the nook of the CO’s shoulder and neck, moaning at the feeling of being stretched. 

Saul traced along her spine, weaving long fingers between the knobs of her spine. With some careful positioning, Saul was lined up to Rosln’s rear. Rock hard and begging to feel the tightness of a woman around him, Saul grabbed the nearby lube first and generously coated himself in the cold liquid. Fisting himself until thoroughly prepared, he settled behind the president. Bill moved so that Roslin’s ass lifted in the air, inviting him to enter her from behind.

Saul savored each tight inch until buried to the hilt. 

“Frak yes,” Saul hissed, pressing his body against hers. His groin was pressed against her buttocks as the men held Rolsin in place once more as she got used to being completely filled. They stared moving slowly, with a steady pace. Saul could feel each thrust of his best friend as they moved together in one woman.

Gods, Saul missed the feeling of being inside a woman. It felt good to kiss and hold another human being. Saul grabbed Roslin’s hips to increase his movement. Her cries of pleasure made it obvious that she enjoyed what was happening to her even as the two men began pounding into her in earnest. Saul didn’t expect sharing a woman to feel as wonderful as it did, but he might just be starved for gratification. Frakkin’ apocalypse. He was going to explode at any moment.

…

Bill woke with a start in his rack, a sheen of sweat covering his skin from the erotic dream he’d been having. Beside him, Laura tossed and turned with her brown knit in discomfort. Immediately, Bill wrapped her in his arms and whispered soothing words into her ear that reached her even in sleep as she calmed down. The pale skin of her now bald head shone in the dimmed light of his quarters. She’d come home from a doloxan treatment and fallen straight into bed, barely able to get her clothes off. His heart ached at the toll her treatments took.

With Laura soothed, Bill started drifting back off to sleep while thinking of his unusual dream. He knew he harbored absolutely no desire to invite another person into the rack with him and Laura. Neither of them were willing to share what little they already had of each other. They both knew that. Besides, Laura’s energy waned a little more each day.

Bill did know that he’d give anything to see Laura healthy and invigorated like she’d been in his dream. He also desperately wanted to see some of the old life back in Saul again. His real desire was to see the apocalypse give his beloved family a damn break. 

Bill went to sleep, thinking of one truth he’d spoken in his dream;  _ she’s the most precious person in this Fleet. We all need her. But she’s the most beloved person to me. I’d do anything for her.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Threesome? THREESOME? Okay, mr. prompt. Here is your threesome. 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Decided to just have fun with it. Whatcha think?


End file.
